What You Wished For
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: "The Voice of the Night" by Deane R. Koontz. On the night Roy Borden and Colin Jacobs visit the Kingman house together, each tells the other of his greatest wish- and gets it.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 **A/N: To introduce readers to the story as it is going in canon when the point-of-divergence occurs, I have included about Chapter 8, 9 and 10, straight from the book. It's something I generally try to avoid, but I needed to depict these canon scenes anyway. I had to manually retype every word of those chapters, so there was nonetheless real effort involved. The story begins on July 2** **nd** **, 1980.**

* * *

They got back to Santa Leona at ten forty-five and stopped at a service station on Broadway. The place was closed for the night; the only light was in the soft-drink machine. Roy fished in his pocket for change. "What do you want? I'm buying."

"I have some money," Colin said.

"You bought supper."

"Well… okay. I'll have a grape."

They were silent for a while, chugging their drinks.

Finally Roy said, "This is a great night, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"You having fun?"

"Sure."

"I'm having one hell of a good time, and you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're here," Roy said.

"Yeah," Colin said, heavy on self-deprecation, "I'm always the life of the party."

"I mean it," Roy said. "A guy couldn't ask for a better friend than you."

This time, the cause of Colin's blush was as much pride as embarrassment.

"In fact," Roy said, "you're the only friend I have, and the only friend I need."

"You've got hundreds of friends."

"They're just acquaintances. There's a big difference between friends and acquaintances. Until you moved to town, I'd been a long time between friends."

Colin didn't know if Roy was telling the truth or making fun of him. He had no experience by which to judge, for no one else had ever talked to him as Roy had just done.

Roy put down his half-finished bottle of cola and took a penknife out of his pocket. "I think it's time for this."

"For what?"

"Standing in the soft light from the soda machine, Roy opened the knife, put the sharp pint against the meaty part of his palm, and pressed hard enough to draw blood: a single thick drop like a crimson pearl. He squeezed the tiny wound until more blood oozed from it and trickled down his hand.

Colin was aghast. "Why'd you do that?"

"Hold out your hand."

"Are you crazy?"

"We'll do it just like the Indians."

"Do what?"

"We'll be blood brothers."

"We're already friends."

"Being blood brothers is a whole lot better."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"When our blood has mingled, we'll be like one person. In the future, any friends I make will automatically become your friends. And your friends will be mine. We'll always stand together, never apart. The enemies of one will be enemies of the other, so we'll be twice as strong and twice as smart as anyone else. We'll never fight alone. It'll be you and me against the whole damned world. And the world better look out."

"All of that because of a bloody handshake?" Colin asked.

"The important thing is what the handshake symbolizes. It stands for friendship and love and trust."

Colin was unable to take his eyes from the scarlet thread that crossed Roy's palm and wrist.

"Give me your hand," Roy said.

Colin was excited about being blood brothers with Roy, but he was also squeamish. "That knife doesn't look clean."

"It is."

"You can get blood poisoning from a dirty cut."

"If there was any chance of that, would I have cut myself first?"

Colin hesitated.

"For Christ's sake," Roy said, "the whole won't be any bigger than a pinprick. Now give me your hand."

Reluctantly Colin held out his right hand, palm up. He was trembling. Roy grasped him firmly and put the point of the blade to his skin. "It'll just sting for a second," Roy assured him.

Colin didn't dare speak for fear his voice would quaver badly.

The pain was sudden, sharp, but not long-lasting. Colin bit his lip, determined not to cry out.

Roy folded the knife and put it away.

With shaking fingers Colin pressed the wound until it was bleeding freely.

Roy slipped his bloody hand into Colin's. His grip was firm. Colin squeezed back with all his strength. Their wet flesh made a barely audible squishing sound as they shook hands.

They stood in front of the deserted service station, in cool night air scented with gasoline, breathing each other's breath, feeling strong and special and wild.

"My brother," Roy said.

"My brother."

"Forever," Roy said.

"Forever."

Colin concentrated hard on the pinprick in his hand, trying to sense that moment when Roy's blood first began to creep into his own veins.

 **XX**

After the impromptu ceremony, Roy wiped his sticky hand on his jeans and picked up his unfinished Pepsi.

"What do you want to do next?"

"It's after eleven," Colin said.

"An hour from now, do you turn into a pumpkin?"

"I'd better go home."

"It's early."

"If my mother gets back and I'm not there, she'll worry.

"From what you've told me, she doesn't sound like the kind of mother who'd worry about a kid too much."

"I don't want to get into trouble."

"I thought she went to dinner with this Thornberg guy."

"That was around nine o'clock," Colin said. "She might be getting home soon."

"Boy, are you naïve."

Colin looked at him warily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She won't be home for hours."

"How do you know?"

"About now," Roy said, "they've had dinner and brandy, and old Thornberg's just getting her into bed at his place."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Colin said uneasily. But he remembered how his mother had looked when she'd gone out: fresh, crisp and beautiful in a clinging, low-cut dress.

Roy leered at him, winked. "You think your mother's a virgin?"

"Of course not."

"So did she suddenly become a nun or something?"

"Jeez."

"Face it, good buddy, your mother screws around like everyone else."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'd sure as hell like to screw her."

"Stop it!"

"Touchy, touchy."

"Are we blood brothers or not?" Colin asked.

Roy swallowed the last of his soft drink. "What's that got to do with it."

"If you're my blood brother, you've got to show some respect for my mother, just as if she were your mother."

"Roy put his empty bottle in the rack beside the soda machine. He cleared his throat and spat on the pavement. "Hell, I don't even respect my own mother. The bitch. She's a real bitch. And why should I treat your old lady like she's some sort of goddess when _you_ don't even have any respect for her?"

"Who says I don't?"

" _I_ say you don't."

"You think you can read minds or something?"

"Didn't you tell me that your old lady always spent more time with her girlfriends than she did with you? Was she ever around when you needed her?"

"Everyone has friends," Colin said weakly.

"Did you have friends before you met me?"

Colin shrugged. "I've always had my hobbies."

"And didn't you tell me that when she was married to your old man, she left him once a month-"

"Not that often."

"-just walked out for a few days at a time, even for a week or more?"

"That was because he beat her," Colin said.

"Did she take you with her when she left?"

Colin finished his grape soda.

"Did she take you with her?" Roy asked again.

"Not usually."

"She left you there with _him_."

"He's my father, after all."

"He sounds dangerous to me," Roy said.

"He never touched me. Just her."

"But he might have hurt you."

"But he didn't."

"She couldn't know for sure what he'd do when she left you with him."

"It worked out okay. That's all that matters."

"And now all her time's taken up with this art gallery," Roy said. "She works every day and most evenings."

"She's building a future for herself and me."

Roy made a sour face. "Is that her excuse? Is that what she tells you?"

"It's true, I guess."

"How touching. Building a future. Poor, hard-working Weezy Jacobs. It breaks my heart, Colin. It really does. Shit. More nights than not, she's out with someone like Thornberg-"

"That's business."

"-and she _still_ doesn't have time for you."

"So what?"

"So you should stop worrying about getting home," Roy said. "Nobody gives a damn if you're home or not. Nobody cares. So let's have some fun."

Colin put his empty bottle in the rack. "What'll we do?"

"Let's see… I know. The Kingman place. You'll like the Kingman place. You been there yet?"

"What's the Kingman place?" Colin asked.

"It's one of the oldest houses in town."

"I'm not much interested in landmarks."

"It's that big house at the end of Hawk Drive."

"The spooky old place on top of the hill?"

"Yeah. Nobody's lived there for twenty years."

"What's so interesting about an abandoned house?"

Roy leaned close and cackled like a fiend, twisted his face grotesquely, rolled his eyes, and whispered dramatically: " _It's haunted_!"

"What's the joke?"

"No joke. They say it's haunted."

"Who says?"

"Everyone." Roy rolled his eyes again and tried to imitate Boris Karloff. "People have seen exceedingly strange things at the Kingman place."

"Such as?"

"Not now," Roy said, dropping the Karloff voice. "I'll tell you all about that when we get there."

As Roy lifted his bicycle away from the wall, Colin said, "Wait a minute. I think you're serious. You mean this house is really haunted?"

"I guess it depends on whether or not you believe in that sort of thing."

"People have seen ghosts there?"

"People say they've seen and heard all kinds of crazy things at that house ever since the Kingman family died up there."

"Died?"

"They were killed."

"The whole family?"

"All seven of them."

"When was this?"

"Twenty years ago."

"Who did it?"

"The father."

"Mr. Kingman?"

"He went crazy one night and chopped up everyone while they were sleeping."

Colin swallowed hard. "Chopped them up?"

"With an axe."

Axes again! Colin thought. For a moment his stomach seemed to be not a part of him but a separate entity alive within him, for it slipped and slid and twisted wetly back and forth, as if trying to crawl out of him.

"I'll tell you all about it when we get there," Roy said. "Come on."

"Wait a minute," Colin said nervously, stalling for time. "My glasses are dirty."

He took off his glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and carefully polished the thick lenses. He could still see Roy fairly well, but everything farther than five feet was blurry.

"Hurry up, Colin."

"Maybe we should wait for tomorrow."

"Is it going to take you that long to clean your goddamned glasses?"

"I mean, in daylight we'll be able to see more of the Kingman place."

"Seems to me like it's more fun to look at a haunted house at night."

"But you can't see much at night."

Roy regarded him silently for a few seconds. Then: "Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Ghosts."

"Of course not."

"Sounds like it."

"Well… it _does_ seem kind of foolish to go poking around a place like that in the dark, in the dead of night, you know."

"No. I don't know."

"I'm not talking about ghosts. I mean, one of us is bound to get hurt if we mess around in an old broke-down house in the middle of the night."

"You _are_ scared."

"Like hell."

"Prove you're not."

"Why should I prove anything?"

"Want your blood brother to think you're a coward?"

Colin was silent. He fidgeted.

"Come _on_!" Roy said.

Roy mounted his bike and pedaled out of the deserted service station, heading north on Broadway. He did not look back. Colin stood at the soda machine. Alone. He didn't like being alone. Especially at night.

Roy was a block away and still moving.

"Damn!" Colin said. He shouted, "Wait for me," and clambered onto his bicycle.

 **XX**

They walked the bikes up the last steep block toward the dilapidated house that crouched above them. With each step, Colin's trepidation grew. It sure looks haunted, he thought.

The Kingman place was well within the Santa Leona city limits, yet it was separated from the rest of the town, as if everyone were afraid to build nearby. It stood on top of a hill and held dominion over five or six acres. At least half of that land had once been well-tended, formal gardens, but long ago it had gone badly to seed. The north leg of Hawk Drive dead-ended in a wide turnaround in front of the Kingman property; and the lampposts did not go all the way to the end of the street, so that the old mansion and its weed-choked grounds were shrouded in blackest shadows, highlighted only by the moon.

On the lower two thirds of the hill, on both sides of the road, modern California-style ranch houses hung precariously to the slopes, waiting with amazing patience for a mudslide or the next shock wave from the San Andreas Fault. Only the Kingman place occupied the upper third of the hill, and it appeared to be waiting for something far more terrifying, something a great deal more malevolent than an earthquake.

The house faced the center of town, which lay below it, and the sea, which was not visible at night, except as a negative in the vast expanse of lightlessness. The house was a huge, rambling wreck, ersatz Victorian, with too many fancy chimneys and too many gables, and with twice as much gingerbread around the eaves and windows and railing as true Victorian demanded. Storms had ripped shingles from the roof. Some of the ornate trim was broken, and in a few spots it had fallen down altogether. Where shutters still survived, they often hung at a slant, by a single mounting. The white paint had been weathered away. The boards were silver-gray, bleached by the sun and the constant sea wind, waterstained. The front-porch steps sagged, and there were gaps in the railing. Half of the windows were haphazardly boarded shut, but the others were without protection, thus shattered; moonlight revealed jagged shards of glass like transparent teeth biting at the empty blackness where stones had been pitched through.

In spite of its shabby condition, however, the Kingman place did not have the air of a ruin; it did not give rise to sadness in the hearts of those who looked upon it, as did many once-noble but now decrepit buildings; somehow it seemed vital, alive… even frighteningly alive. If a house could be said to have a human attitude, an emotional aspect, then this house was angry, very angry. Furious.

They parked their bicycles by the front gate. It was a big rusted iron grill with a sunburst design in the center.

"Some place, huh?" Roy said.

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

"Inside?"

"Sure."

"We don't have a flashlight."

"Well, at least let's go up on the porch."

"Why?" Colin asked shakily.

"We can look in the windows."

Roy walked through the open gate and started up the broken flagstone walk, through the tangled weeds, and toward the house. Colin followed him for a few steps, then stopped and said, "Wait, Roy, wait a sec."

Roy turned back. "What is it?"

"You been here before?"

"Of course."

"You been inside?"

"Once."

"Did you see any ghosts?"

"Nah. I don't believe in 'em."

"But you said people see things here."

"Other people. Not me."

"You said it was haunted."

"I told you other people said it was haunted. I think they're full of shit. But I knew you'd enjoy the place, what with you being such a big horror-movie fan and everything."

Roy began to walk along the path again.

After several more steps, Colin said, "Wait."

Roy looked back and grinned. "Scared?"

"No."

"Ha!"

"I just have some questions."

"So hurry up and ask them."

"You said a lot of people were killed here."

"Seven," Roy said. "Six murders, one suicide."

"Tell me about it."

During the past twenty years, the very real tragedy of the Kingman murders had evolved into a highly embellished tale, a grisly Santa Leona legend, recalled most often at Halloween, composed of myth and truth, but perhaps more of the former than the latter, depending on who was telling it. But the basic facts of the case were simple, and Roy tuck close to them when he told the story.

The Kingmans had been wealthy. Robert Kingman was the only child of Judith and Big Jim Kingman; but Robert's mother had died of massive hemorrhaging while delivering him. Big Jim was even then a rich man, and he grew continually richer over the years. He made millions from California real estate, farming, oil, and water rights. He was a tall, barrel-chested man, as was his son, and Big Jim liked to boast there was no one west of the Mississippi who could eat more stake, drink more whiskey, or make more money than he could.

Shortly before Robert's twenty-second birthday, he inherited the entire estate when Big Jim, having drunk too much whiskey, choked to death on a large, inadequately chewed chunk of filet mignon. He lost that eating contest to a man who had yet to make a million dollars in plumbing supplies, but who could at least boast of having lived through the feast. Robert had not developed his father's competitive attitude toward food and beverage, but he had acquired the old man's business sense, and although he was quite young, he made even more money with the funds that had been left to him.

When he was twenty-five, Robert married a woman named Alana Lee, built the Victorian house on Hawk Hill, just for her, and began fathering a new generation of Kingmans. Alana was not from a wealthy family, but she was said to be the most beautiful girl in the county, with the sweetest temper in the state. The children came fast, five of them in eight years- three boys and two girls. Theirs was the most respected family in town, envied, but also liked and admired. The Kingmans were churchgoers, friendly, graced with the common touch in spite of their high station, charitable, involved in the community. Robert obviously loved Alana, and everyone could see that she adored him; and the children returned the affection their parents lavished upon them.

On a night in August, a few days before the Kingman's twelfth wedding anniversary, Robert secretly ground up two dozen sleeping tablets that a physician had prescribed for Alana's periodic insomnia, and sprinkled the powder in drink and food that his family shared for a bedtime snack, as well as in various items consumed by the live-in maid, cook, and butler. He neither ate nor drank anything that he had contaminated. When his wife, children and servants were soundly asleep, he went out to the garage and fetched an ax that was used to chop wood for the mansion's nine fireplaces.

He spared the maid, cook, and butler, but no one else.

He killed Alana first, then his two young daughters, then his three sons. Every member of the family was dispatched in the same hideously brutal, gory fashion: with two sharp and powerful blows of the ax blade, one vertical and one horizontal, either on the back or on the chest, depending on the position in which each was sleeping when attacked. That done, Robert visited his victims a second time and crudely decapitated them.

He carried their dripping heads downstairs and lined them up on the long mantel above the fireplace in the drawing room. It was a shockingly gruesome tableau: six lifeless, blood-splashed faces observing him as if they were a jury or judges in the court of Hell. With his beloved dead watching him, Robert Kingman wrote a brief note who those would find him and his maniacal handwork the following morning: "My father always said that I entered the world in a river of blood, my dying mother's blood. And now I will shortly leave on another such river." When he had written that curious good-bye, he loaded a .38-caliber Colt revolver, put the barrel in his mouth, turned toward the death-shocked faces of his family, and blew his brains out.

As Roy finished the story, Colin grew cold all the way to his bones. He hugged himself and shivered violently.

"The cook was the first to wake up," Roy said. "She found blood all over the hallway and stairs, followed the trail to the drawing room, and saw the heads on the mantel. She ran out of the house, down the hill, screaming at the top of her lungs. Went almost a mile before anyone stopped her. They say she nearly lost her mind over it."

The night seemed to be darker than it had been when Roy had begun the story. The moon appeared to be smaller, farther away than it had been earlier. On a distant highway a big truck shifted gears and accelerated. It sounded like the cry of a prehistoric animal.

Colin's mouth was as dry as ashes. He worked up enough saliva to speak, but his voice was thin. "For God's sake, _why_? Why did he kill them?"

Roy shrugged. "No reason."

"There _had_ to be a reason."

"If there was, nobody ever figured it out."

"Maybe he made some bad investments and lost all of his money."

"Nah. He left a fortune."

"Maybe his wife was going to leave him."

"All of her friends said she was very happy with her marriage."

A dog barking.

A train whistling.

Wind whispering in the trees.

The stealthy movement of unseen things.

The night was speaking all around him.

"A brain tumor," Colin said.

"A lot of people thought the same thing."

"I'll bet that's it. I'll bet Kingman had a brain tumor, something like that, something that made him act crazy."

"At the time it was the most popular theory. But the autopsy didn't turn up any signs of a brain disease."

Colin frowned. "You seem to have filed away every single fact about the case."

"I know it almost as well as if it had happened to me."

"But how do you know what the autopsy uncovered?"

"I read about it."

"Where?"

"The library has all the back issues of the Santa Leona _News Register_ on microfilm," Roy said.

"You researched the case?"

"Yeah. It's exactly the kind of thing that interests me. Remember? Death. I'm fascinated by death. As soon as I heard the Kingman story, I wanted to know more. A whole lot more. I wanted to know every last bit and piece of it. You understand? I mean, wouldn't it have been terrific to be in the house on that night, the night it happened, just sort of observing, just hiding in a corner, on _that_ night, hiding and watching him do it, watching him do it to all of them and then to himself? Think of it! Blood everywhere. You've never seen so much goddamned blood in your life! Blood on the walls, soaked and clotted in the bedclothes, slick puddles of blood on the floor, blood on the stairs, and blood splashed over the furniture… And those six heads on the mantel! Jesus, what a popper! What a terrific popper!

"You're being weird again," Colin said.

"Would you like to have been there?"

"No thanks. And neither would you."

"I sure as hell would!"

"If you saw all that blood, you'd puke."

"Not me."

"You're just trying to gross me out."

"Wrong again."

Roy started toward the house.

"Wait a minute," Colin said.

Roy didn't turn his back this time. He climbed the sagging steps and walked onto the porch. Rather than stand alone, Colin joined him.

"Tell me about the ghosts."

"Some nights there are strange lights in the house. And people who live farther down the hill say that sometimes they can hear the Kingman children screaming in terror and crying for help."

"They hear the _dead kids_?"

"Moaning and carrying on something fierce."

Colin suddenly realized he had his back to one of the broken first-floor windows. He shifted away from it.

Roy continued somberly: "Some people say they've seen spirits that glow in the dark, crazy things, headless children who come out on this porch and run back and forth as if they're being chased by someone… or something."

" _Wow_!"

Roy laughed. "What they've probably seen is a bunch of kids trying to hoax everybody."

"Maybe not."

"What else?"

"Maybe they've seen just what they say they have."

"You really _do_ believe in ghosts."

"I keep an open mind," Colin said.

"Yeah? Well, you better be more careful about what kind of junk falls into it, or you'll wind up with an open sewer."

"Aren't you clever."

"Everyone says so."

"And modest."

"Everyone says that, too."

"Jeez."

Roy went to the shattered window and peered inside.

"What do you see?" Colin asked.

"Come look."

Colin moved beside him and stared into the house.

A stale, extremely unpleasant odor wafted through the broken window.

"It's the drawing room," Roy said.

"I can't see anything."

"It's the room where he lined up their heads on the mantel."

"What mantel? It's pitch dark in there."

"In a couple of minutes our eyes will adjust."

In the drawing room something moved. There was a soft rustling, a sudden clatter, and the sound of something rushing toward the window. Colin leaped back. He stumbled over his own feet and fell with a crash.

Roy looked at him and burst out laughing.

"Roy, there's something in there!"

"Rats."

"Huh?"

"Just rats."

"The house has rats?"

"Of course it does, a rotten old place like this. Or maybe we heard a stray cat. Probably both- a stray cat chasing a rat. One thing I guarantee- it wasn't any ghoul or ghost. Will you relax, for God's sake?"

Roy faced the window again, leaned into it, head cocked, listening, watching.

Having sustained much greater injury to his pride than to his flesh, Colin got up quickly and nimbly, but he didn't return to the window. He stood at the rickety railing and looked west toward town, then south along Hawk Drive. After a while he said, "Why haven't they torn this place down? Why haven't they built new houses up here? This must be valuable land."

Without looking away from the window, Roy said, "The entire Kingman fortune, including the land, went to the state."

"Why?"

"There were no living relatives on either side of the family, nobody to inherit."

"What's the state going to do with the place?"

"In twenty years they've managed to do absolutely zilch, nothing at all, big zero," Roy said. "For a while there was talk of selling the land and the house at public auction. Then they said they were going to make a pocket park out of it. You still hear the park rumor every once in a while, but nothing ever gets done. Now will you please shut up for a minute? I think my eyes are finally beginning to adjust. I have to concentrate on this."

"Why? What's so important in there?"

"I'm trying to see the mantel."

"You've been here before," Colin said. "You've already seen it."

"I'm trying to pretend it's that night. The night Kingman went berserk. I'm trying to imagine what it must have been like. The sound of the ax… I can almost hear it… _whooooosh-chunk_ , _whooooosh-chunk_ …. and maybe a couple of short screams… his footsteps coming down the stairs… heavy footsteps… the blood… all that blood…" Roy's voice gradually trailed away as if he had mesmerized himself.

Colin walked to the far end of the porch. The boards squeaked underfoot. He leaned against the shaking railing and craned his neck so that he could look around the side of the house. He could only see the overgrown garden in shades of gray and black and moonlight-silver: knee-high grass; shaggy hedges; orange and lemon trees pulled to the ground by the weight of their own untrimmed boughs; sprawling rose bushes, some with pale flowers, white or yellow, that looked like puffs of smoke in the darkness; and a hundred other plants that were woven into a single, tangled entity by the loom of the night.

He had the feeling something was watching him from the depths of the garden. Something less than human.

 _Don't be childish_ , he thought. There's _nothing out there. This isn't a horror movie. This is_ life.

He tried to stand his ground, but the possibility that he was being observed became a certainty, at least in his own mind. He knew that if he stood there much longer, he would surely be seized by a creature with huge claws and dragged into the dense shrubbery, there to be gnawed upon at the beast's leisure. He turned away from the garden and went back to Roy.

"You ready to go?" Colin asked.

"I can see the whole room."

"In the dark?"

"I can see a lot of it."

"Yeah?"

"I can see the mantel."

"Yeah?"

"Where he lined up the heads."

As if he were drawn by a magnet stronger than his will, Colin stepped up beside Roy and bent forward and peered into the Kingman house. It was extremely dark in there, but he could see a bit more than he had seen a while ago: strange shapes, perhaps piles of broken furniture and other rubble; shadows that seemed to be moving, but, of course, were not; and the white-marble mantel above the enormous fireplace, the sacrificial alter upon which Robert Kingman had offered up his family.

Suddenly Colin knew that this was a place he must get away from at once, a place he must stay away from forever. He knew it instinctively, on a deep animal level; and as if he were an animal, the hairs rose on the back of his neck and he hissed softly, involuntarily, through bared teeth.

Roy said, " _Whooooosh-chunk_!"

Then he did something took Colin, in spite of all the things he knew about Roy, completely by surprise. Roy climbed in the open window.

 **XX**

Seeing Roy climb up, over, and quickly vanish into the darkness of the Kingman place's drawing room, Colin felt his unease rapidly turning to panic. "Roy!" he called. "Roy! Come back, man! Roy!"

Roy didn't say anything; Colin could see him in there, a human shape in the midst of all that black. He was moving around in an odd, jerky, excited manner that was not like his normal self at all. Instead of being smooth and fluid, his every movement stylish and cool, Roy was moving in this disjointed way that said he was captivated by something. Something he was seeing, something he was feeling- maybe both. And whatever it was, it left Roy unable to reply to Colin's strained, frightened words.

Colin's desire to get away from this house was stronger now, stronger than ever; he wanted to turn on his heel and go sprinting away into the night, screaming like a banshee, just like the cook had after she'd woken up… and seen what she'd missed while she was asleep. Colin wanted to leave this place very badly, as much as he'd wanted to get away from anywhere in all his life. But he just couldn't leave Roy in this place alone. Of all the abandoned houses to leave someone in by themselves at night, this was the worst pick there could be. If Colin were to ditch Roy and leave him behind… something could happen to his blood brother, his only friend. Something very unpleasant.

Mustering all the courage he had, Colin reluctantly willed himself to go forward. He crawled in through the window and joined Roy in the drawing room.

"Roy!" Colin said again. "Come on, Roy, let's go!"

Roy was standing in front of the white-marble fireplace now. As Colin approached, he turned around, as if noticing Colin for the first time. Even in the darkness of the drawing room, Colin could see the energy lighting up Roy's handsome face. Roy's eyes were wide and he stared at Colin with an intensity that made his normally bright, energetic self look like nothing.

"What's your greatest wish, Colin?" Roy asked. "What's the one thing you want more than _anything_ else?" He spoke quickly, urgently, as if somehow they didn't have much time for this conversation- but it was absolutely necessary that it happen.

Colin was taken aback, and his state of rising panic didn't help. He just stared. "Huh?"

"What would you give _any_ thing to have, if you could just _have_ it?" Roy demanded, his eyes wide and alive, the energy coming off him in waves, just about crackling the air around them.

Just then, as Colin was about to do the utterly ridiculous and try dragging the muscular, athletic Roy out of this house with his thin little bookworm arms, a strange feeling came over him. The intensity in Roy's eyes, the urgency in his voice, suddenly began to seep into him. Roy's excitement somehow made a little more sense. In spite of this, Colin didn't want to say it, what his greatest wish was. Roy was just so damn cool, and no matter what mood he was in right now, telling him the truthful answer would just make Roy think he was a dork.

But Colin heard himself starting to speak. Against his mind's will or not, his mouth had decided to tell Roy the truth.

"I want to be like you," Colin began, and then the words came tumbling out. "I don't wanna be skinny, I wanna be a jock! I wish I didn't have these lousy eyes. I wish I looked just like you. I wish girls turned their heads whenever I went by. I want to be fast and strong and cool, Roy. Just like you are."

Colin abruptly ran out of steam and hung his head, face burning with shame, with humiliation at admitting the extent of his hero-worship of his only friend.

But Roy wasn't laughing at him when Colin looked up. He wasn't smirking. In fact, Roy's expression hadn't changed at all. Still lit up with energy like a Christmas tree, his eyes most of all.

"And I want us to be brothers, Colin," Roy said. "Not just symbolic blood brothers, but real, _actual_ brothers." He took a step forward and Colin willed himself not to back away. "This house, Colin, it knows how alike we are. It _knows_ we're in sync! Colin, we can _both_ _get_ what we want!"

Pain exploded in Colin's head in that instant. It whited out his vision, and throughout his body all the signals began shutting down. His knees buckled, and Colin dropped into darkness. His confession moments ago was forgotten. All Colin wanted now was for his death to be quick.

 **XX**

The first thing that Colin felt when he woke up was a sense of surprise; he hadn't expected to at all. Right on the heels of that came another sensation- heat. It's July, dummy, Colin heard his mind saying. Of course it's hot.

But no- that didn't explain it at all. God _damn_ , was it hot in here! Colin opened his eyes. He was sprawled out on the wood floor of the drawing room, arms and legs splayed out at weird angles. Close by, Colin saw Roy lying the same way- he'd apparently passed out at the same time Colin had, or else soon after. And past Roy, Colin saw the white marble fireplace, alive and blazing with heat. A roaring fire was going there, throwing out sparks almost every second. Parts of the room were already ablaze.

"Fire," Colin croaked, barely more than a whisper. He cleared his throat, forced himself to say it louder. "Fire! Roy! Fire!"

Roy sat up, blinked and looked around, and then swore violently when the fire swelled momentarily, its heat scorching his skin. Roy saw what was happening and his eyes went wide. "Jesus, it's spreading! Let's go!"

Colin sprang to his feet, glad to find he could control his body now. That bizarre loss of self-control which had made him tell Roy his deepest, most earnest wish, whatever had caused it, was gone now. Colin was himself again. And from the focused, alert look he had on his face, in his eyes, so was Roy. There was no sign of that eerie look of excitement he'd had on earlier.

Both boys sprinted for the window they'd come through without even really looking at it. They recoiled just in time, pulling up short; the window was completely blocked by fire.

"Goddamnit," Roy shouted, "Come on, Colin! We have to run!" He spun around and took off, sprinting for one of the doorways that led deeper into the Kingman house. Colin looked and, without any hesitation, took off after him.

As Colin ran for his life through a once-dark house now bright and blazing with fire, smoke and heat, he was surprised to find he could actually keep up with Roy. His legs were thin; Roy's legs were muscular. His reserves of strength were pathetically shallow; Roy's energy and power were awesome. And yet Colin flew down hallways and around corners right on Roy's heels, never once faltering or falling behind. His eyes, throat, and lungs all protested at the smoke and crap he was breathing in, but even so, Colin did not slow or feel any sign that he was struggling to stay close to Roy as his friend searched for a way out. With no time to stop and think about it, all Colin could come up with was that adrenaline, the kind brought on by heart-pounding terror, could do wonderful things for a person's strength. Even a bookworm like himself.

Speaking of which, Colin wondered if he'd lost his glasses back there. He could see Roy's back clearly enough, but even he was blurred at the edges. Past that he could only see the big stuff- halls and doorways, that sort of thing. No- Colin touched a quick hand to the bridge of his nose and found the familiar touch of the frames of his eyeglasses. Maybe the lenses had been knocked out when he fell, or else his vision was just messed up somehow from whatever had made him pass out in the first place.

As his arms and legs pumped, Colin became aware of something else- his clothes felt awfully tight. How did that make any sense? They'd fit fine when he'd put them on this morning. His blurred vision bothered him the most, though- how on earth had it happened? Had letting himself be lured into this awful place where those terrible things had happened done permanent damage to Colin's sight? Or worse, was he carrying a ghost in his head that was messing up his eyes- a supernatural parasite?

 _Stop it_ , Colin told himself sharply. _Stop it! Concentrate on getting out of here_!

"There!" Roy shouted, as he turned left into a lounge or sitting room, one the fire hadn't touched yet. Most importantly it bordered on the outside wall of the house, meaning it had the one thing Roy and Colin needed most: windows. Roy ran up to the first one, kicking the nailed-on boards off of it in quick succession. He then climbed up on the window sill, perched there a moment, then jumped out. Colin followed, launching himself from the sill with surprising grace and ease, landing right beside Roy in the remains of one of the smaller gardens. This one, thankfully, appeared to have been just a bunch of exotic, decorative grass.

The boys both stayed where they were for a minute, breathing hard, sweating, trying to recover their wits and remember what the hell just happened.

"You all right?" Roy asked finally.

"Something's wrong," Colin confessed. "I can't see very well, Roy."

Silence.

"Roy," Colin said, becoming frightened, "I said I can't see very well."

Still nothing. Getting really scared now, Colin finally gave up and took off his glasses. He was nearsighted, and as crummy as his eyesight was, he could at least see well at a range of two feet without them. He looked over at Roy, and his heart jumped when he saw the expression of complete, amazed bewilderment on Roy's face.

"Colin," Roy started, his voice hoarse; he swallowed and tried again. "Colin, have you looked at yourself?"

In spite of what he'd just been through, Colin couldn't help his reply. "Yeah, all the time, but I've been trying to cut down on it."

Glancing back at and then away from the rapidly burning Kingman house, Roy said, "Colin, let's get to our bikes. We can't stay here."

"Aw, I wanted to roast some marshmallows and make smores."

Roy got up, heading away from the house. Colin followed, glasses still in hand, and was amazed at what he saw. What he saw! He could see incredibly well at distances now- he could make out shapes and objects like he had 20/20 eyes!

And by the way- get to the bikes, Roy had said. Where was his, then? There were two, but Colin's was gone. In its place, left at the exact spot, was another one just like Roy's!

A tidal wave of questions started hitting Colin, and his mouth just opened like a hatch, letting them all out.

"Where's my bike? Where'd that one come from? What- what the heck went on in there?" Colin staggered a little, caught himself. "Couldn't you tell that place was evil? Why'd you go in there, anyhow? And what'd you mean, 'the house can give us what we want'?"

Roy's bike had a small mirror on each of its handlebars, facing rearward to help the rider become aware of approaching cars. With a small display of the kind of strength he wielded, Roy wrenched the left one clean off the handlebar and handed it to Colin.

"Very impressive," Colin said, unable to stop being a professional wiseass. "You know, you should really go out for wrestling, too-"

"Look at yourself," Roy said. It was a command, not a request.

Sighing, Colin held the mirror toward himself and looked towards it impatiently- then stopped.

It wasn't his face looking back at him.

It was Roy's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Colin's heart just about stopped when he saw it. He was silent for a full minute, motionless, staring at the reflection in the mirror. He touched a hand to his face, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Oh, my God," Colin croaked. There was no way, absolutely no way. Because to believe this had really happened was to believe in the impossible. And yet here it was.

Colin gazed at his handsome face, dotted with freckles just the way Roy's was; his right hand reached up and tugged at a lock of his thick golden hair.

Roy said nothing for a little while. He circled Colin, moving in close and then backing away, peering at Colin and whispering to himself in an awed, hushed voice. Only after a minute or so did he seem to remember he could talk to Colin, too.

"You're my brother now, Colin," Roy said. "Holy shit. You're my goddamn brother."

"Your blood brother," Colin corrected him.

"My birth brother, my real blood brother," Roy said.

"Just in spirit," Colin said.

"No," Roy answered with a slight shake of his head. "The same dad fucked the same mom and she had both of us. We're twins, Colin. We're fucking _twins_."

"You've lost it," Colin said. "I think you sucked in too much smoke back there."

"No," Roy said calmly. "Colin, I've never been thinking so clear in all my life."

"Then how come my name's still-"

"Colin Borden?" Roy interjected, looking at Colin curiously. He had walked over to the other bike, the same model as Roy's but blue versus his own bike's red, and was pointing to the name engraved on a little metal plate affixed to one of the main body's tubes. Home-made, done rather crudely- but effectively, beyond a doubt.

At first Colin didn't respond. He walked over and looked, but couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"I remember you as Colin Jacobs," Roy said quietly. "I met you a month ago. But I also remember my twin brother Colin Borden, who I've known since we were born on the same day in 1966. I have two sets of memories, Colin. And I'm betting, so do you."

"No, I don't," Colin denied without even thinking. Still in shock, it was all Colin could do just to stay on his feet. "Look- I gotta get home, Roy," he said, refusing to acknowledge that his voice was also different- that it sounded just like Roy's did.

"That's a good idea," Roy said, smirking. "Follow me."

Getting onto his bike, Roy pedaled back down Hawk Drive. Colin tucked his glasses in his pocket and followed. The two boys rode away into the night as the Kingman house went up in flames behind them.

 **XX**

Midnight.

They cycled down Hawk Drive to Broadway and followed Broadway until it ended at Palisades Lane. They stopped at the head of the wooden steps that led down to the public beach. On the other side of the narrow street, elegant old Spanish houses faced the sea. The night was still. There was no traffic. From here, Colin thought, they would go separate ways: Roy's house was several blocks north, and Colin's lay to the south.

"Come on," Roy said, waving for Colin to follow him as he turned north. "At least follow me back to my house, all right?"

"Okay," Colin said. He refused to look at the mirrors on his bike, on a bike that felt and looked so familiar, and yet he'd never seen before in his life. He just pedaled, becoming steadily more annoyed at how damn tight his clothes were.

Coming to a stop in front of the Borden house fifteen minutes after twelve, Colin started to say goodnight and go on his way, but Roy called after him, "Where were you going, exactly?"

"Home," Colin said. "We live in two different houses, remember?"

"No," Roy said seriously. "No, I don't."

"Jeez. I thought you were smart, Roy."

"I am smart. We both are."

"So you'll remember I gotta go home now."

"Which is why you should stop jabbering and put your bike away," Roy said with a smile. "Because you _are_ home."

 **XX**

Colin looked at the red-painted mailbox, up at the two-story house, started in 1956 and finished in 1957. He'd seen it a couple times before, knew this was the Borden place, but all of a sudden "the Borden place" meant a lot more than simply being where his friend lived. Colin had vague senses of having seen his father, and not Frank Jacobs, going and getting the mail. Himself and Roy, mowing the lawn, deliberately doing it shirtless, in the middle of the day in the summertime, so the foxy girls could come by and have a look at them.

Colin remembered they sometimes did, too.

Just when it started to be too much, Roy was there at Colin's side, gently talking him into walking up the driveway and putting his bike away in the shed. "Come on, Colin," he said. "I'll show you your bed."

Letting them in at the back door, Roy walked quietly and cautioned Colin to do the same. Colin knew this was best. He remembered Mom hated it when they made noise after their bedtime- and nevermind if they were not exactly five years old anymore.

They made it upstairs without making a sound. Colin had never seen Roy's bedroom before, and it surprised him. It didn't look like a kid's room; in fact, it didn't look like a place where anyone, child or adult, really lived. The nap on the carpet stood up as if it had been vacuumed only minutes ago. The dark pine furniture was highly polished; as Roy switched on one lamp and then another, Colin found he couldn't see a scratch on it. But he could see his reflection.

No dust. No grime. No fingerprints around the light switch. The bunk beds, one on top of the other, were neatly made, the lines as straight and the corners as tightly tucked as those on a bunk in an Army barracks. In addition to the furniture, there was nothing but a big red dictionary and the uniform volumes of an encyclopedia. But nothing else. Nothing else at all.

There were no knick-knacks, no model airplanes, no comic books, no sports equipment, nothing to show that Roy had any hobbies or even any normal human personal interests. The room reflected Mom's personality- not that of her sons.

Sons?

To Colin's eyes, the oddest thing about the place was the total absence of decoration on the walls. No paintings. No photographs. No posters. In the downstairs foyer, in the living room, and on the wall along the stairs, there were a couple of oils, a watercolor, and a few inexpensive prints, but here the walls were bare and white. Colin felt as if he were in a monk's cell.

More memories came flooding in, sparked by the bare, joyless nature of the room, the iron-handed way that the woman of the house demanded it be kept spotlessly clean. Colin could smell furniture polish, could hear the vacuum cleaner. He had wasted many long afternoons polishing that goddamned furniture, as if he were getting it ready for inspection- which, to be fair, he had been. He and Roy had been forced to pass inspection every week, sometimes every day.

 _If I want that_ , Colin thought bitterly, _I'll join the Army and at least get paid_.

"You remember," Roy said, his eyes alight with excitement- but the kind Colin was used to seeing. Not the way he'd been at the Kingman place.

"I… I don't know," Colin said hesitantly. "I- I remember these things, but- they- they never happened. I don't live here."

"You do," Roy insisted. "You always have. What do you remember, Colin?"

"Furniture polish," Colin said, for some reason unable to keep bitterness from his voice. "I remember the furniture polish."

"What else? What else do you remember, Colin?" Roy asked eagerly. But Colin just gingerly walked over to the lower bunk- his, he remembered, he and Roy had playfully wrestled for it and he'd won- and sat down. Roy joined him a few moments later, letting the questions he'd been asking slide for now.

It was well after midnight, but Colin didn't care. Neither did Roy, it seemed. Both boys sat in silence for some time. Trying to make sense of what had happened tonight, trying to get a handle on this impossible change that had altered both of their lives.

"You asked me what I wanted most," Colin said slowly. "You asked what I wanted more than anything in the world."

"You said it was to be like me."

"I passed out."

"We both did."

"There was a fire."

"Sure was."

"The Kingman place burned down."

"By now, you bet it has."

Colin shook his head. He felt his own face, ran his hands through his hair, thought again about how uncomfortably tight his clothes still were. "There is no way this has happened, Roy. This is some really crazy dream."

"No dream," Roy said. "We look exactly alike, Colin. Because we were born twins on June 20, 1966. We've known each other all our lives."

"Jeez."

"You're trying to tell yourself you're still Colin Jacobs, aren't you?" Roy asked.

"I am Colin Jacobs."

"No, you're not," Roy said. "Not anymore."

"Yes, I am," Colin insisted.

"Why are you being so damn stubborn about it?" Roy asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "This has _happened_ , Colin. I thought you of all people would believe it first."

"Ghosts and stuff is one thing, Roy. Changing reality is what you're suggesting, and it's impossible."

"How do you know?" Roy asked. "Stuff like this could happen five times a week in the world and you'd never know any differently, would you? Just like they don't know you were ever any different."

It was a practical answer, and a classic Roy line. Roy was damn smart. He understood things better than most did, kids and adults alike. Unable to come up with any good retort to that, Colin fell silent. He fidgeted with his tight clothes- his shirt seemed determined to keep a death-grip on his arms.

"Colin Jacobs' clothes not fitting very well on Colin Borden?" Roy asked, a little amused.

"No," Colin admitted reluctantly.

Roy stood up and walked over to the dresser, pulled out a sky blue t-shirt, near-white khaki shorts, and a pair of black boxers, and tossed all three to Colin. "Go and change if you want," he said. "But remember we've slept in our underwear since we were four."

Colin remembered that.

He went and changed in the bathroom, unwilling to look at himself in the mirror. This was too much.

But he walked back to the bedroom in his boxers.

Setting his clothes back in the dresser- making sure they were neatly folded to what was basically Army standard- Colin walked over to the bunk beds.

"Don't try to think about it too much," Roy said gently, turning off the lights and climbing up into his bed on the top bunk. "Just get some rest, Colin. You'll be okay. Just go to sleep."

Colin lay down on his bed, and willed himself to go to sleep, but it was a while before he finally did. His mind and heart raced on even if he was exhausted. Memories kept barging in- Colin kept remembering things he had never experienced before, but which were and always had been a part of his life.

Before he finally managed to fall asleep, the last thing Colin found himself thinking about was the Kingman house. It was nothing but charred brick, ashes and cinders by now. Yet inside its walls something had happened. Colin felt different. He felt less afraid, sensed an inner strength he'd never sensed before. Maybe this really had happened- impossible as it seemed. But how had a place where something so evil had been done been able to do… something like this?

 **XX**

A plug-in alarm clock went off at exactly 6AM, and Roy and Colin sat up, swearing in low voices. Each of them struggled to get up and shut the damn thing off- its rude, yet very effective beeping was enough to wake up even boys who'd been awake some five hours before.

Colin half-stumbled to the bathroom behind Roy; there were dark circles under both of their eyes.

Dressed and wandering down to the spotlessly-clean kitchen, Colin followed Roy in getting out two bowls and some cereal. Mr. Borden- Dad?- was already there, glasses on, busy reading a Lionel Limited model trains magazine. He barely gave an acknowledgement when Colin said good-morning. When Colin started to get exasperated and began to try it again, Roy shook his head sadly.

"The back lawn needs to be mowed," Mrs. Borden- Mom- said flatly as she saw the two fourteen-year-old boys. "And come to think of it, Colin, you didn't do very well at mowing the front lawn last time either. So mow the front lawn too. After that the gardens need weeding- front and back. And be sure to be back by five o'clock so you can help clean the kitchen before dinner."

Colin's jaw dropped, but he closed it quickly. So this was how Roy's Mom said good morning.

"Yes, Ma'am," Roy and Colin chorused together. Colin had right away decided to say yes, knowing full well that resistance just caused him lots of trouble and even more chores, but had picked "Yes, Ma'am" at the last second. He was surprised by how automatic it sounded coming out of his mouth- exactly like the words coming out of Roy's. He took on an odd look at that moment, under the eyes of his mother. Instead of showing his natural upright, squared-shoulders pose- the stance of the born fighter he was- Roy looked cowed and tame. He hung his head slightly, not quite meeting Mrs. Borden in the eye, and his shoulders slumped a little.

But maybe it was an act, meant to just give Mrs. Borden the picture she wanted to see so she'd go on and leave Roy alone. Colin went ahead and shifted himself a little, so he stood the same way Roy did. He was startled a second time by how natural the pose was for him. It was like it was what he'd always done in front of Roy's mother- his mother. Maybe it was. It certainly helped her lose interest in the boys, and that meant they went back to being ignored.

Colin was used to being ignored. He at understood Mr. Borden's behavior throughout breakfast- he was, in a word, preoccupied. He'd become a parent, just like Colin Jacobs' mom had, and yet was too damn busy in his own world to notice.

And Mrs. Borden wasn't so different from his own Mom, really. Colin observed that as soon as he and Roy had obediently nodded and promised to do as they were told, Mrs. Borden just went about her day and became preoccupied with her own affairs. "Preoccupied with her own affairs"- that pretty much described Colin's mom, too.

It was nice to know some things hadn't changed.

 **XX**

Colin was lying on his bunk-bed, trying to find some joy in this joyless room by reading statistics and short snippets of data about horror films in one of the encyclopedias when Roy came in. He sat down and leaned up against the dark pine wood dresser, and waited patiently until Colin gave up reading the dumb encyclopedia and set it aside.

"Let's play a game," Roy said simply.

"What kinda game?"

"You'll see."

"What's it called?" Colin asked.

"Remember That." He paused, then added, "It's a mental game, and it's all about memories, okay?"

"Okay," Colin nodded. He prepared himself- this might be pretty hard, but he'd always prided himself on his brains. It was all he'd had to be proud of, after all. Shitty eyesight, thin muscles, awkward social manners- what else did he have to talk about?

"I've been thinking a lot, Colin-"

"Oh, wow. Tried that out, have you?"

Roy gave him an exasperated look.

"Okay, okay," Colin said.

"Well, I was saying, I've been thinking a lot about- what happened. I have two sets of memories of everything that happened, everything I ever did, leading all the way up until last night. So do you. I'm trying to go through the new memories, sort them all out. You should, too."

"So we're gonna make a game out of it?"

"Why not?" Roy shrugged, smiling. "It'll be more fun that way. We can stop whenever you want to." He got up and closed the door to his- their- room, then sat back down. "Oh, one rule."

"What's that?"

"You can only talk about the new memories. They're the only ones that matter."

 **XX**

The game of 'Remember That' was all about accessing their new memories, and examining them. It was pretty hard, remembering a lifetime of things they had each done, seen, been a part of. Colin struggled to make sense of it, and to be fair, it wasn't that easy for Roy, either.

Especially not when they had to separate, Roy going to mow the back lawn while Colin went to go pull weeds out front. Mrs. Borden was watching them- she made sure they knew it, too- and she saw to it the boys did not get to help each other with their tasks, or interact at all even if one finished first and they were in the same half of the yard. Colin kept his head down, yanking weeds one after the other, grumbling irritably to himself as Roy pushed the buzzing lawnmower back and forth across the lawn.

When they were finally done at 10AM, Colin pulled his gardening gloves off and trudged back to the shed with the hedge clippers and trowel, getting there just as Roy came along, pushing the lawnmower.

"Nice lady, real nice," Colin said, voice laced with bitterness and sarcasm, pulling off his gardening gloves. "Does she realize she's a mother, not a prison warden? Does she even know what 'fun' is?"

"The bitch has been like this all your life," Roy said. "And mine." He paused, looking at Colin. "Remember that?"

It took a few moments, but Colin began to nod. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, I do." He paused and spat on Mrs. Borden's perfectly-manicured back lawn, after first making sure she wasn't watching. To be honest, however, Colin didn't much care if she was.

 **XX**

Playing 'Remember That?' in his own head proved a little too effective. After carefully washing off their hands and feet, Colin and Roy tiptoed inside to the upstairs and downstairs showers. Colin remembered one thing after another about Mr. and Mrs. Borden, and quickly found his 'new' parents were no better than his old ones. None of it was very cheery stuff. It was un-cheery enough, in fact, that it drove Colin back into the lower bunk in his and Roy's room, back into the logical, unprejudiced safety of the encyclopedia. He was once again reading a volume when Roy came in, wearing only a pair of bright red swimming shorts and a t-shirt.

Roy pulled the t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, flashing a brilliant smile as Colin looked up. Shirtless, Roy was any teenage girl's dream. Chiseled, tanned muscles that rippled like water under his skin, broad athlete's shoulders, handsome pecs, and a full six-pack at his midriff. Colin was jealous of Roy, but then, every guy in Santa Leona was probably jealous of Roy.

"Come on, Colin," Roy said cheerfully. "Get some swimming trunks on. We're gonna go down to the beach and let the foxy girls look at us."

"Look at _you_ ," Colin said, " _not_ me. So I'll stay here if that's okay."

"You really should come with me."

"Why?" Colin asked, frowning in confusion. "Why should I even bother, Roy? They never wanted to look at me before."

"Take your shirt off, and go look at yourself in the mirror," Roy said. He smiled, adding, " _Then_ tell me if you wanna go to the beach."

Sighing, Colin set aside the encyclopedia volume and wandered down the hall to the bathroom. He pulled his shirt over his head and stared into the mirror- and just like last night, was stopped dead in his tracks by what he saw.

Those powerful, well-muscled biceps. Those six-pack abs. Those broad shoulders, that chiseled chest, all of it thick with a lifelong jock's muscle. And not a bad suntan, either.

Colin felt the muscles, flexed each of them a few times, alternately awed and amused- then just pleased. He was still flexing his muscles, striking poses in front of the mirror, when Roy appeared in the open doorway, a knowing smile on his face. "Take these, big shot," he said, tossing Colin a pair of turquoise swimming trunks. "I'll see you outside in a minute."

"Okay," Colin agreed, grinning at Roy. "Cool."

Suddenly Colin wanted to look at himself. He wanted a much better look. This was interesting. Really interesting. Colin shut the bathroom door and hurried back in front of the mirror.

He stripped out of his shorts, boxers and shirt, and was halfway into pulling the swim shorts up his legs when he stopped and stepped back out of them again. Colin backed up and stepped back into the tub, curtain pulled back, and looked at himself- all of himself. Yep, he was improved there, too. Lean, muscular thighs and legs, bulging with athlete's muscle- conditioned like those of a seasoned runner. And a penis that was definitely bigger than what Colin remembered from being a Jacobs. He smiled. Maybe this change wasn't so bad. He could've had much worse things happen to him- and none of those others gave you a stud's muscles, fixed your eyesight, and made your thing longer.

Colin pulled on his swim shorts and almost raced down the stairs. Suddenly he was in a hurry. And why not? It was time to go to the beach.

 **XX**

With their classic good looks and buff, tanned beach boy muscles, Roy and Colin drew the girls. They walked at a leisurely pace along the beach, Roy making jokes about wishing they could just do without the shorts and Colin laughing and agreeing. Girls their age, girls older than them, girls old enough to be in college all gave them second looks- some turned back for a third. Colin felt so nervous, so sure they were just looking at Roy, but every time he smiled at a girl, she smiled back.

Some of them were definitely checking him out.

"Hey," a pretty blond called as she and her redheaded friend passed by Colin and Roy. Both of them were dressed in bikinis. "How's it going?"

"Oh, you know," Colin answered with a smile, "It's going."

It was a dumb joke, corny as hell, and yet the girls both laughed. As the two pairs of teenagers went on their way, Colin heard the blond say to her friend, "He's kinda hot."

"Which one?" the redhead asked. "They're twins."

"That's what I mean. Both of them."

Colin could hardly believe it, even as they passed a college girl who was sunbathing- a girl who eyed him appreciatively as he passed by, smiling at her as he did so. Both of them.

That included him.

"Having fun yet?" Roy asked, smiling. No mocking smile there, no sarcasm. Colin was having the time of his life, and Roy knew it. Colin smiled back and nodded. "Let's stay a while."

Roy grinned. "My thoughts exactly."

 **XX**

Going in and out of some of the beachfront shops, Roy and Colin stopped for lunch at an outdoor café. Colin by now found himself floating in a sort of daze; he'd trail off mid-sentence when a pretty girl walked by and smiled at him- and more than one of them did- or lose interest in whatever he and Roy had been talking about. After Colin clumsily knocked over his drink while turning to say hi to a good-looking girl about his and Roy's age, Roy sighed.

"Have you been listening to anything I said in the past half hour?"

"Um, I- well-" Colin blushed. "Sorry."

Roy gave a shrug of his powerfully-muscled shoulders. "Don't worry about it."

Colin realized something just then; Roy drew the girls every bit as much as he apparently did. They'd been saying hi not just to him, but to both of them, yet it hadn't distracted Roy anywhere near as much. He'd just said hi back, flirted a little whenever someone flirted with him. But he hadn't gotten all goofy and forgotten what he was talking about every time.

"How come I'm, you know- getting all distracted, and you don't?"

"You're getting used to who you are now," Roy said, lowering his voice a little. "That's all."

Two girls in two-piece bikinis joined them before they left, prompting the boys to extend their stay. Roy was smooth and confident; Colin was shy and awkward. And yet the girls seemed equally interested in both of them. Viola and Monique were their names; Viola was the one Colin wound up talking to. She had nicely tanned skin and flowing brown hair, and to Colin she looked like something straight out of a fashion magazine. It was unbelievable that she actually seemed interested in talking to him.

Colin felt even more awkward when he realized she seemed to have seen him around before, was referencing things he didn't know anything about, but Roy seemed to be listening enough that he was able to step in and help out every time, yet did so without really interrupting.

"Think you'll get some playing time on the JV team when school starts, Colin?" Viola asked.

"Uh- uh, yeah, I think so," Colin said, trying not to stammer. "What? Not pick me? Coach'd be nuts if he didn't."

Viola laughed, showing her pretty white teeth. "Do they let girls in the weight room you guys use?"

"Why?" Colin asked curiously.

"Maybe… I wanna see you work out."

Colin turned crimson as he saw the way she was looking at him, sizing up his bare upper half. Oh, my God- was she really looking at _him_ that way? At Colin?

It made Colin start spacing out again as it started to really set in. A whole afternoon ahead of him, and girls' heads had been turning his way all morning. For once, Colin felt like he had a lot to look forward to. Never in his life had going around with his shirt off gotten this kind of interest.

Colin was loving every minute of this. A day ago Colin would have been near-invisible at the beach; now he drew eyes like a magnet. He didn't want it to stop. Whatever it was, however it had happened, this part of his new life was wonderful. Colin couldn't get enough of it.

 **XX**

Walking the beach and admiring the girls- and being admired back- Roy and Colin were also the subject of more than a few envious stares. Guys as much as twice their age looked again at the two identical blond fourteen-year-old boys, possessing a kind of lean, muscular look that every guy in the world hoped to have and maintain. And yet they walked so casually, looked so calm and at ease, it was like they'd been in this kind of shape all their lives.

It wasn't actually that far from the truth. Colin was coming up with bits and pieces of it, of a life spent growing up in the same house with his twin brother, Roy. Always running, lifting, testing their strength against other boys and against each other. Physical fitness was the Borden boys' life.

The payoff was all around him; a day at the beach so wonderful Colin didn't want it to end. When Colin said as much to Roy, his friend- his brother- smiled at him.

"You know school doesn't start till August, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when we're not doing dumb chores at home, where do you think we'll be?"

That made Colin smile back. "The beach". Two words had hardly ever sounded quite so nice.

"Hey! Hey, you two! Wanna join our game?"

While they were walking in the afternoon sun, Roy and Colin had been nearing a volleyball net set up on the sand. A group of teenagers- all of them with the look of beach-going regulars themselves- were playing a game, and the redhead and blonde girls Colin and Roy had seen earlier were smiling and waving to them now.

Seeing the golden-haired, slender beauty in that two-piece red bikini, Colin abruptly forgot all about Viola and her flirting. He'd worry about her later. There was much more important business right now. Oh, my God- was she smiling at him? Running her eyes over his bare upper half?

"This must be what it was like to be you, all the time," Colin said quietly as the boys turned towards the volleyball court, halting in the sand. "You know, before."

"You should know, Colin," Roy said with a wink and a smile. "Girls've been after you all your life." Looking toward the two girls from earlier, Roy raised his voice. "Got room for two more?"

 **XX**

Colin had never been invited to play volleyball on the beach before. He'd never been invited to play just about anything before. And certainly not with a bunch of other teenagers who were- who had to be- very popular at whatever schools they went to. A couple guys about Colin and Roy's age, looking like athletes themselves, greeted the two identical teenagers with familiarity- like they already knew them. Taken aback, since he didn't know them at all, Colin was a little slow to offer a smile and friendly response, but Roy helped, answering the greetings first.

The game resumed, and Colin sheepishly smiled as the blond offered him a spot next to her, helping guard in the front row, right up against the net.

"I, uh, haven't really played volleyball before," he admitted.

"Man, Colin, what are you talkin' about, dude?" one of the guys called.

"You're out here all the time, bro."

"He's just being modest," Roy said. "Come on! Heads up!" He tossed the ball up and expertly served it, sending it sailing over the net towards the opposing team.

Colin's heart raced with fear as the game went on, a growing certainty that he was going to fumble, mess it up- that he was just moments away from going back to being dorky, unpopular Colin Jacobs again. In his own mind he still was- only nobody else seemed to see it. Just him.

He was awkward and clumsy at first, deflecting an incoming serve with little more than dumb luck several times. But everyone else seemed pretty impressed, as if Colin had done something not everyone could've. Like he had, you know, actual skill.

A glance at Roy just saw the blond boy give him a friendly wink, as if to say, _Keep it up_.

Colin tried talking a little with the pretty blond girl, and briefly introduced himself during a pause at one point.

"Hey, uh, my name's Colin, Colin Jac-Borden," he said, blushing as he stuttered nervously.

"I'm Olivia Hastings," she answered, smiling warmly at him. "Nice to meet you, Colin Jac-Borden."

Colin gave her a sheepish smile and a half-shrug, turning just in time to see an incoming ball- it was coming straight for his head!

Without even thinking about it, Colin raised one hand, planted his feet wide apart, and drove his palm up to meet the ball as it came hurtling down towards him. It smacked off his palm and sailed off in the opposite direction, earning cheers from his teammates and startled, impressed shouts from the teens on the other side of the net.

"Damn!"

"You don't mess with Colin, man!"

"I thought he wasn't even paying attention!"

"Guess he was."

"Obviously, bonehead," Roy added. "My brother's as good at this game as anybody."

Colin smiled, did his best to act casual- to pretend that it was nothing. He felt a little more confident as things went on, some of his shy, awkward, self-doubting nature fading away. Not all of it- not even close- but some. And for someone like Colin, that was huge progress.

When the game ended and the teams were changed up so a new one could get going, Colin, Roy, and the two girls all wound up on the same side. Pure coincidence, no doubt. Colin was taking up his post in the front rank, getting ready to block those shots coming in over the top of the net, when he saw the blonde girl- Olivia- looking at him curiously. Her head moved when he did, as if she was trying to keep something in her view. Colin was first curious, then flattered- then he noticed she was staring at his back.

For some reason, Colin didn't like that she was staring at his back. He didn't like it at _all_.

"What're you looking at?" Colin asked, unable to keep a certain wariness from his voice.

"What- what happened to your back?" Olivia asked.

And suddenly Colin knew the look of his own back, knew it as if he had owned this skin on this back for years. A band of jagged scars ran diagonally across Colin's back, scar tissue from healed-over wounds that went all the way down to his waistline. In the untouched areas Colin's skin was smooth and nicely tanned, the look of a lifelong surfer boy. But where the scars had their say, Colin's skin did not take to the sun; it was smooth, pale and shiny-smooth in some areas, pale and puckered in others.

Colin suddenly felt annoyed, just moments away from anger. He didn't like being asked about his scars. Somehow, Colin was instantly sure of that- he knew it. Even if he didn't know why.

"It's nothing," Colin said dismissively, hoping she'd drop it.

"You weren't born that way."

"Just an accident," Colin said.

She looked at him. "What kind of accident?"

"It was a long time ago," Colin said shortly.

"Were you in a car wreck or something?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Colin said, something he was powerfully sure of.

"Why not?" Olivia asked, and Colin lost it. He'd been holding onto his temper and now just gave up the effort. He glared at her, all at once forgetting about her pretty, slender, California-tanned body, her budding breasts and her flowing gold hair. All at once he didn't give a damn, because she was asking about something that was just none of her damn business.

"I said I don't want to fucking talk about the fucking scars!"

The two teams went pretty quiet; Colin had snapped it out faster and louder than he'd meant to, but to his own surprise, he didn't back down or blush, or apologize. He just glared at Olivia some more. She looked startled, and she shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, Colin. Just forget it, okay?"

"I don't have to give you any reason why I don't want to talk about it, either."

"I didn't mean to pry," she said, her tone full of apology.

"Well, you did," Colin replied flatly.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Yeah." Colin sighed, running a hand through his thick blond hair. "Okay. So am I."

The second game started, and Colin managed to go back to enjoying things pretty quickly. He started adding his own words to the banter flying around between the guys- mostly it seemed to involve being boastful, showing each other up and trying to impress the girls. Colin made sure to do some stretches here and there, and moved around more during the second game- giving the girls a chance to see those muscles of his in action. And it worked- Olivia, for one, was riveted on Colin's upper half for most of the game.

It helped him forget how annoyed he'd been with her- but Colin didn't forget completely.

After the second game ended, everybody went their separate ways, and Colin and Roy began heading back to where they'd locked up their bikes to start the ride home.

"Have a good time today?" Roy asked.

"Yeah," Colin said, smiling. "Yeah, I really did."

"I could tell."

"I bet it was pretty obvious. Written on my forehead in big letters, you know. Nothing abnormal."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Roy went on, "I had one hell of a good time today. It was a goddamn popper. And you know why, Colin?"

"No idea," Colin said, giving a shrug of those heavy, buff shoulders he wasn't even remotely used to yet.

"Because you're my brother. 'Everything's more fun when we do it together.' You know who said that?"

"You, I'm guessing."

"No. You did. Last summer, when we were here almost every day in June and July. You said that, Colin."

"Well, okay," Colin said, shrugging again. "I don't really remember that, though."

"You will," Roy said confidently. "Just keep going through your new memories. Before long you'll remember everything."

They neared their bikes, unlocking them from the parking station they'd been hooked up to. Colin looked at Roy, suddenly curious about how angry he'd gotten at Olivia earlier. It had been so instinctive, an automatic reaction that he hadn't even taken a moment's time to consider. And yet he couldn't think of why he'd react that way- or why he had the same horrible scars disfiguring his own back that Roy did.

"Roy," Colin began, "Why did I snap at Olivia earlier?"

"Because she was asking about crap that's none of her business, that's why," Roy said with tones of finality. "Now, come on. Let's get out of here." He winked. "I'll show you the new Playboy magazine I smuggled into the house last week. Ask nice and I'll share."

But right then, Colin wouldn't be deterred. "What happened- why do our backs look like this?" He gasped, horrified at what he saw on Roy's back- and on his, in the reflection of a nearby shop window. "Oh, my God, Roy-"

Roy sighed irritably. "Okay. Colin, it's simple. You remember how you told Olivia it was an accident?"

"Yeah."

"That's all it was. Now drop it. I don't wanna talk about it anymore." Roy's tone was bitter, and hinting at anger if Colin kept asking about it. This was clearly not a subject Roy cared for.

Colin looked between Roy and the ocean for a few moments, feeling awkward for spoiling Roy's good mood. He'd had a really great time today, and felt grateful towards Roy for making his… adjusting… to his new life easier. Roy really seemed to be happy they were twins, and Colin, for his part, was thrilled beyond words to be like Roy. Attractive, buff, popular, with eyes that could see clearly, completely unaided, for miles. It was wonderful.

So Colin made himself clear his throat, put on a sly smile, and direct that look at Roy when his twin looked back at him.

"So. You wanted to do some kinda race?"

Roy smiled. "Sure. Whichever one of us gets to the driveway first gets first dibs on June '87 _Playboy_ for the _whole_ evening."

Colin hesitated. He'd never seen a Playboy magazine before, but even he knew what it was. It was a porn magazine, the kind guys his and Roy's age would just about kill someone to get. There were lots of 'nice' pictures in there, Colin had heard. Really nice. Clothes were nonexistent, and the women were as attractive as they got.

And it was the kind of thing Colin knew nothing about. He wasn't allowed to buy things like that, and blushed scarlet if he ever even contemplated the idea. He did that now, right in front of Roy, which made it that much worse.

"Aw," Roy said, "feeling guilty, Colin?"

"No," Colin lied.

"Lemme say it like this, then- you _are_ feeling guilty."

"No, I'm not," Colin insisted, his embarrassment growing.

"Yes, you are," Roy insisted. "And you gotta stop it, Colin. You want to see some tits and ass just like I do, and it's natural. So stop feeling guilty over nothing, will you?"

"Okay, okay," Colin sighed, still feeling awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at Roy after a few moments.

"What?" Roy asked, after Colin took too long trying to form the question.

"All those girls we saw today- how do I know they weren't just looking at me because I was with you?"

It was the doubting Thomas in Colin talking then, the part of him that was used to being a skinny, introverted bookworm who, for nine girls out of ten, didn't merit a second glance. And he'd never met that hypothetical tenth one, either. Even after everything that happened today Colin couldn't quite believe it had really been him that was getting all those second glances.

"Because," Roy said, "they were looking at both of us. You could just tell. It's intuition, Colin, not something I can just write down in some book. They kept looking back at you, asking you stuff, saying what's up, laughing whenever you made a joke. Bunch of little things, Colin. But they weren't just looking at me."

Relief and pleasure rushed through Colin, and he smiled as he looked at down at himself. His upper body was muscular and lean, with no excess fat at all. His skin was smooth and tanned, and his thick blond hair just added the finishing touch to his wholesome, all-American looks.

His shoulders were broad and powerful. His chest and abs were well-defined, bearing plenty of sculpted muscle. And Colin's arms, when he flexed them, rippled and bulged with the casual strength of a lifelong athlete. A boy who definitely deserves a second look.

Colin's smile grew wider, and he saw Roy smiling too as he looked back at his friend- no, his brother. His twin brother.

"Enjoying yourself yet?" Roy asked.

"Little bit," Colin admitted, knowing his pleased smile said it all.

"June '87 _Playboy_ 's waiting, Colin. Think you can beat me if we race our bikes home?"

Colin had never won a race in his life. Not as Colin Jacobs. But the adolescent alpha male's build he wore now was a hundred and eighty degrees from who he'd been before. Colin tensed his legs a little, tested their strength, and could immediately sense a world of difference between these and the thin, underpowered ones he'd had before. He felt a sudden rush of confidence, a willingness to do what would have been ridiculous just a day ago- take on Roy in a physical contest.

"Don't even bother," Colin said, swinging his legs up and onto his bike, "because that porn mag's mine."

And with that he turned and pedaled hard, racing out of the parking lot and away from the beach. Colin heard a whoop of delight as Roy saw his challenge had been accepted, and could soon hear the clicking of gears and the sound of tires spinning as Roy hurried to catch up to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

July 4th, 1980. For many American families, it meant special activities planned, going somewhere to see fireworks in the evening, and generally decorating the whole day with red, white and blue. But Colin quickly found that the Borden household didn't do things that way. Breakfast was a subdued affair, and Colin was quickly coming to learn neither of their parents were much interested in anything about their children besides assigning them chores and feeding them. Roy seemed bitter and angry about it, but also resigned- he gave every indication of a boy who had been experiencing this for a long time, and had no reason to expect it would change.

Colin ate his breakfast in near-total silence, obediently accepting his chores for the day as Mrs. Borden assigned them. She spoke calmly and coldly, giving no hint of emotion at all as she talked to the two boys. Mr. Borden was the same as yesterday- polite enough, but very absorbed in either his work or his hobbies. Neither Borden parent seemed to realize their boys were not androids, neither wanting nor feeling human emotion. Colin began to feel a rush of sympathy for Roy; it was incredible he'd managed to become and remain such a popular, upbeat person in spite of such disinterested, emotionally neglectful parents.

After breakfast, during a brief break before they had to begin work on their morning chores, Colin found Roy upstairs in their bedroom, stripped to the waist, flexing his bared chest, arm and shoulder muscles in front of a small mirror.

"Admiring the guns?" Colin asked with a smile, and just a little sarcasm.

"Yeah," Roy said, smiling and throwing a distracted glance at Colin. "Yeah, man." He looked back at the mirror, raised his arms above his head, stretched and flexed his biceps and triceps. "I'm stronger than I was before," he said, in a low, awed voice, as if he could hardly believe it.

Colin turned back from examining his and Roy's dresser, trying to further acquaint himself with the clothes he had apparently been wearing for years.

"Huh?"

"I'm stronger than I was before," Roy said again. "I mean it. I can just tell."

"Really? How much stronger?"

"A lot stronger, Colin," Roy answered, still only half paying attention, absorbed with admiring himself in the mirror. "A _whole_ lot. I could take on any guy my age right now, and probably some motherfuckers twice my age while I'm at it. We should go fight some guys, Colin. Really beat 'em up. That'd be a popper. A real terrific popper."

"I bet," Colin said. "I always did like the sight of blood."

"Oh, knock it off," Roy said. "Just you wait, Colin. You're gonna want to use those guns of yours before long." He paused. "You know what? I remember you liked that. You've always been asking me to wrestle with you, or race somewhere, or do a pushup contest in front of all the guys in gym class."

The room swayed for just a moment, and all of a sudden Colin felt a rush of new memories coming back to him. Things that were new to him now, but immediately felt like old friends- things he remembered and had known all his life.

Eight years old, winning his first footrace with Roy- one of many, many more to come.

Ten years old, already fit and muscular, winning his first wrestling match with Roy. Colin could feel the adrenaline rush from it, the happiness he'd felt at winning, but also at knowing that he and Roy were both benefiting from testing their strength against each other.

Thirteen years old, Colin was half-naked and sweating, slugging it out with Roy in the boxing ring at school, with the guys all cheering them on. By a narrow margin, Roy won that one, but he'd had to earn it.

A lifetime of running, jumping, climbing, wrestling and play-fighting with Roy came back to Colin, and with it, memories of his and his 'new' brother's lifelong love for physical fitness. It had been their love, their passion, for both of their whole lives.

It had won them accolades, praise and popularity at school, making Colin and Roy the envy of boys all the way up to 12th grade. And it helped distract them both from the shitty life they had at home.

Somehow that led Colin to start thinking about what a great time he'd had racing Roy on July 2nd, just two days ago, except… except…

"Oh, God-" Colin gasped, hands going to his head as pain nearly whited out his vision.

Roy was there just when Colin needed him, to help steady Colin and keep him on his feet. Colin had just experienced the very bizarre event of remembering two different memories of the same day, on which he had done completely different things. It was confusing and disorienting, and also gave Colin an excruciating migraine headache.

"I got you, Colin," Roy said, his well-muscled arms and shoulders catching Colin and gently guiding him down onto the lower bunk. "I got you."

Colin lay there for a minute, just trying to breathe evenly and ease the headache back.

"What happened?" Roy asked.

"I remember," Colin said. "I remembered why you're stronger than you were before."

"Why?"

"Us. We've been competing all our lives, and we both loved doing it."

"We still do."

"But, I- I tried to remember this race we had two days ago, and it- it…ah!" Colin's headache surged back, and he clutched his head, curling up and shutting his eyes against agony.

"Stop it!" Roy said suddenly. "Colin, take it easy!"

It took another minute or two, but Colin managed it. He sighed, sweat shining on his forehead, and opened his eyes. "Okay. It's okay, I'm- I'm all right now."

"I think you better be careful about trying to remember two things at once," Roy said. "Matter of fact, Colin, you'd be better off just not thinking about what things were like before. Not like it's important now."

"Yeah, I guess I better-"

"Colin! Roy!" Mrs. Borden called from downstairs, her voice strident and irritated. "Downstairs, in the living room, now! I want those chores done!"

Reaching down, Roy held out his hand. "Better get up, Colin," the handsome blond said sympathetically. "Her Majesty is calling."

 **XX**

Colin was separated from Roy again- a circumstance that upset him, and angered Roy, and which Mrs. Borden seemed to have a liking for doing. She was always watching, listening- always seeming to make sure the boys never quite got a chance to do something behind her back. Colin began to suspect that she, in turn, suspected him and Roy of plotting or planning against her. She clearly did not trust her boys, and did not like them alone together while they were doing chores.

Agitated at being unable to talk to Roy, and simply have his friendship and reassuring presence make things better, Colin resentfully set about the task of cleaning the upstairs bathroom. He longed to sneak five happy minutes in with _Playboy_ , or to sneak it downstairs to Roy so he could have a little fun himself, but Mrs. Borden kept checking in on him. With no mop to use, Colin washed and scrubbed and dried the bathroom with nothing but sponges, towels, and some Pine-Sol. It was slow, unpleasant work, and Colin's reward for finishing on time was getting to clean the kitchen the same way immediately afterwards, while Roy vacuumed every damn carpeted room in the house.

The minute he was done and released from servitude for the day, Colin retreated to his and Roy's room, and together they breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs. Borden got in her car and drove out on some errands.

"Christ," Roy said, "I thought she'd never leave."

"I thought Lincoln freed the slaves," Colin said, drawing on his prodigious historical knowledge.

"Not in this house," Roy answered.

 **XX**

Needing to relax and vent a little, Colin and Roy quickly agreed to take advantage of having the house to themselves. Roy went to take a shower in the downstairs bathroom, bringing June 1978 _Playboy_ with him as "reading material". Colin, as the victor in their brief arm-wrestling contest, got June 1980. He happily made his way to the upstairs bathroom with a towel around his waist, with Roy passing by him as he turned at the doorway.

"Enjoy yourself," Roy said, smiling.

"You bet I will," Colin smiled back.

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Colin unwrapped his towel and set it aside. He stood in front of the mirror for at least five minutes, just gazing in wonder at himself. He was as muscular as Roy, who, he could even tell himself, was stronger than he used to be. Colin was decked out in so much handsome, sculpted muscle, he wasn't just in shape- he was damn near as good-looking as you could _get_ at fourteen. It was hard to imagine better.

Squatting down on the toilet, Colin got _Playboy_ in hand and started turning the pages. The slender, shapely, gorgeous women he'd seen last time pleased Colin's eyes again. They were in good shape too, not too heavy or too skinny- just right. Bare breasts and buttocks that Colin longed to set his hands on, hourglass waists, and between slender thighs, what every boy wanted most of all. Colin was rock-hard between his legs in a minute.

 _You're gonna get caught_ , a guilty voice in Colin's mind said. This was a voice he was used to hearing. The nervous voice, the anxious advisor in his mind- the one who always, always, said Colin should err on the side of caution. Risk-taking was a lot like resistance, because both frequently meant failure and pain.

 _Just put the book away_ , the voice went on. _Ignore that thing down there. Just hide that damn mag before Mom finds you with it. Or Dad_.

Colin was close to obeying, even with the beautiful sights before him in _Playboy_. He always got caught. Always. Colin sometimes even took the fall at school for things he didn't do- he _looked_ guilty.

 _That's right. Just hide it. Go on. You're gonna do the sensible thing, that's all_.

Colin was just about to when another voice spoke up.

 _Like hell you are. Look at those tits_!

And suddenly Colin remembered. He remembered a bold, confident boy who took risks and broke rules whenever it suited him. He remembered a boy who was first to take any dare- right alongside his brother- and who was not especially well acquainted with fear or caution. A boy who enjoyed his masculine, budding alpha-male image and worked hard to improve it.

Colin Borden was a boy who liked Playboy.

 _So go on. Read. That's what you like to do, right? This is just, you know, a different kind of reading. Enjoy it_.

 _Don't. You'll get caught_.

 _By who? The old lady, out at her gift shop? The old man, out at work or tinkering on his damn trains_?

 _Well, the cautious voice tried to say, maybe Roy'll_ -

 _Do what? Rat me out_? Colin heard his Borden-self answer. _Never. He's my brother. Interrupt? Hell no. He likes his time in here too_.

 _You really shouldn't_ -

 _Do what_? The Borden-conscience retorted hotly. _Whack off? Indulge in a little self-pleasure? It feels fucking great. Go on. Let's see some ass. Some tits. Some pussy_.

 _Please don't_.

 _Please do_.

Colin was torn, unable to decide what to do. The cautious voice was so much more familiar, yet the new one- in his new set of memories- was just as familiar to Colin, who he was now. More so, in fact. He sighed in guilty frustration, lowering the book. He happened to glance down at his waist. Down below his waist, to something dangling above the toilet water. Then the Borden-conscience spoke up, much more bold and confident now- like it knew it was winning.

 _So. Bigger than before, huh? Gained an inch or two? Well, why don't you try it out, Colin? Give it another road test? You sure seemed to like the last one._

Colin couldn't answer. He couldn't find the words. But he lifted the magazine again, letting his eyes devour the naked beauty on the page. He knew he shouldn't, knew he was gonna get caught. But he didn't take his eyes away.

Holding _Playboy_ up with one hand, Colin got to work with the other. He rubbed and rubbed, the powerful muscles in his arm making it effortless to beat off- whereas Colin Jacobs had considered even _that_ to be a real workout for his skinny arms. Colin turned a page, gazed at the next image- a girl who had to be barely a day past eighteen, all-American and beautiful, stretched out on a bed. Everything was in view. Colin sighed, closing his eyes, savoring the feeling. The images swirled beneath his eyelids, and not long after that Colin sped up, groaning as an explosion of pleasure hit him- one that was way better than last time. As he sat there naked on the toilet, penis squirting that semi-clear stuff into the toilet bowel and ecstasy racing through him, Colin sighed and closed his eyes. Roy- and his new self, the Colin that was Roy's twin- had been absolutely right. There was nothing to feel guilty about at all.

The more familiar Colin became with his new body, so perfectly identical to Roy's, the more it impressed him how much better it was. His eyes actually did their job, his legs and arms held vast reserves of power instead of next to nothing, and he had looks that drew girls and turned heads. Was it really that much of a surprise to find out that popular, muscular, handsome Roy also had a larger penis than the old Colin did? Hell no. It just reinforced Colin's sense of awe, his belief that Roy was just so damn cool. He was better than you- whoever you were- in every way.

It was nice being friends- brothers- with someone like that. Best of all was being his twin.

Together with a leisurely hot shower, it went a long way towards helping Colin forget what a lousy morning he'd had. It helped a great deal. And that was good- Colin could tell already he would need distractions from his new parents. Perhaps as many as he could get.

Neglect he was, in a sense, used to. Colin had often been left alone while his mother went off to work at the art gallery, or to have dinner with some business partner or something. She was often out of the house and Colin had gotten used to her being busy, rarely able to spare much time for him. His father paid him more attention- far more- than Mr. Borden did, but Colin had also never been remotely comfortable in Frank Jacobs' presence. The quiet, bookish, not-too-social Mr. Borden was actually much more like the person Colin had been until a few days ago.

But the cold way Mrs. Borden treated him was entirely new. That, much more than anything else in this house, was what Colin knew he'd need distraction from. It helped that he had Playboy, and plenty of free time despite the numerous chores he was assigned, but what helped most of all was Roy. They took the same treatment from the same parents, and endured the anger and bitterness it brought together.

Everything was better when you had someone else beside you. Especially someone like Roy.

 **XX**

In a good mood from both showering and whacking off, Colin wandered through the living room to the kitchen. In the near-total silence of the house, he could hear Roy upstairs, huffing slightly as he worked his way through his daily pushups- something he was urging Colin to do, reminding him of their physical exercise routine. The one they'd been doing every day for years.

Colin was startled to find those words struck a chord somehow. He knew they were true, knew he and Roy had worked out together for years- even if he didn't remember yet exactly what they'd done.

Smiling as he thought about the trip to the beach yesterday, and of suggesting to Roy that they go out there again today, Colin got out the materials to start making several ham and cheese sandwiches. He initially made two, which before had been plenty to satisfy his light, skinny reader's frame. But the muscular body he wore now demanded more fuel, the same way a Chevrolet Camaro SS demanded a lot more gasoline than a Mercury Bobcat. Colin wound up eating four sandwiches, with generously added layers of ham and cheese.

Colin was just putting the loaf of bread away when he heard the doorbell ring. Frowning in confusion, Colin suddenly realized how odd this was- neither Mom nor Dad came home this early, even on a holiday like this. And the mail didn't go out on July 4th.

Walking out of the kitchen and over to the front door, Colin pulled it open and saw two boys standing on the porch. They were about his age, and much more like the boy Colin used to be than the one he was now in terms of physical strength and build.

One was olive-skinned, with dark brown eyes and black hair, wearing light khaki pants and a sky blue t-shirt, and rectangular-framed glasses. The other wore a pink polo, butternut-khaki pants, and a white baseball cap that said "Santa Leona" in black letters. His skin was pale, his frame heavier than the other boy's, but still not even close to Roy- or Colin as he was now. The second boy also had red hair, and pale skin almost hinting at a tinge of pink.

"Hey, Colin!"

"Hey, man!"

They both smiled, their faces lighting up as they sighted a familiar friend.

Colin had not even the slightest idea who these two boys were.

"Uh," he said after a moment, "I- er, have we met?"

The two boys looked at each other.

"He's acting weird, man."

"Maybe it's Roy."

"Who could tell? They look exactly alike."

"C'mon," the boy with the red hair said suddenly, putting on an exaggerated pleading face. "help us out, man. Can't you at least wear your hair different or something? Please?"

"That would make it too easy for you," Colin said, smiling in spite of himself. It was easy to like this pale, red-haired boy, even on short notice.

"I told you we wouldn't get any breaks from the Borden brothers, Phil," the redhead told the dark-haired boy.

"Nobody does," Phil agreed.

"Especially not the ladies," the red-haired boy said, winking and giving Colin a sly smile. "Making out with a new girl every Friday night, eh?"

Colin smiled, liking the redhead more every minute. He was getting a vague sense of recognition about these two- like how the redhead was named Steve, and he'd been kidding Colin and Roy about their appetite for 'female companionship' for years. Steve put it off as joking and teasing, but in reality he was as jealous as it was possible to get- like every other guy in their grade. Nobody else among the rising 9th graders seemed to have the girls' attention the way Roy and Colin Borden did.

"You're Steven Rose," Colin said suddenly, looking at the redhead. "Aren't you?"

"Ah! He figured it out! He knows my name, my number, my home address! Nothing is safe!" Steve cried out in pretend alarm, staggering off the porch in exaggerated horror. Phil- Philip Pacino!- and Colin both looked at each other and cracked up.

"Come on, guys," Colin said with a warm smile, "you feel like getting out of this heat?"

"A little, yes," Phil said with a smile and a gracious bow.

"Aw," Steven said in mock disappointment, "I liked roasting outside."

"Suit yourself," Colin said, and made to shut the door right after Phil came inside.

"No!" Steve immediately leapt forward and scrambled his lean frame in past the doorway.

Colin and Phil both laughed, and Steve grinned too after a moment.

"Is Roy upstairs working out?" Phil asked.

"Man, that's like asking if the sky's blue," Colin answered, just as Steve opened his mouth- probably to say the same thing. It was definitely his style.

"True," Phil answered. "Okay. Can we get some water in the kitchen?"

"Sure," Colin nodded. "But don't make a mess. I mean, nothing. Not a spot. Okay?"

"You got it," Steve said, echoed by Phil. The two boys headed into the kitchen while Colin turned right and headed upstairs, going to tell Roy their two friends were here.

Friends! He had friends! It excited Colin just thinking about it, and he practically bounced into the bedroom he and Roy shared. Sure enough, Roy was stripped down to his boxers, muscular skin shining with sweat as he pumped out the last of a full one hundred pushups, something he and Roy always did without stopping. Colin remembered that now, along with how much he and Roy loved doing it together.

"Some of the guys come by?" Roy huffed as Colin came in.

"Yeah," Colin answered, doing his best to sound and appear casual- and surprising himself with how well he did at it. "Steven and Philip."

Something odd happened then. Roy halted in the middle of completing his last pushup, and looked right up at Colin, his eyes hard. "Who?"

"Steven Rose, Philip Pacino," Colin said. "Come on, Roy- we've known 'em for years." He remembered that now, and didn't need to say he knew Roy remembered it too.

"Yeah, sure," Roy said indifferently. He stood up, threw a red t-shirt on and pulled his blue swimming shorts on. "Wanna go to the beach after we get rid of those two?"

"I was thinking of asking if they wanted to go with us," Colin replied uneasily, not sure what Roy's change of mood was about.

"Okay, okay, fine," Roy sighed. "I'm telling you, though, it won't be that great. In fact-"

"Not that great?" Steve quipped, popping into the room with a grin. "Roy's first time in one sentence!"

"Yeah? Nobody asked you," Roy said, moving quickly towards Steve. The redhead backed up in a hurry, visibly startled.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, visibly surprised.

"Steve, you stay out of my and Colin's bedroom unless we say you can come in, you get me?" Roy loomed imposingly over him, and Steve nodded hurriedly. "Yep, sure, Roy. You bet."

"Hey- what's going on?" Phil asked as he came into view, eyes wary behind his glasses. He looked at Steve, then at Roy, then Colin, who was gently trying to ease Roy backwards. "What happened?"

Roy groaned. "Oh, man, Steve- you just had to drag him with you. You had to, didn't you?"

"Me?" Phil asked, surprise and hurt registering on his face. "Hey, what'd I do?"

"It's my fault," Steve said. "I went into Colin and Roy's room, and I forgot I had to ask, and-"

"Man, Colin," Roy asked grumpily, "does this kid ever shut up?"

"Is this a bad time or something?" Steve asked, his eyes wide and confused.

"Yeah," Roy said irritably, "it is. Your timing's shit, Steve. Big surprise, seeing how it always has been."

"Look, Roy, will you at least tell me what I did?"

Roy began to say something, but Colin interrupted him, gently setting a hand on Roy's shoulder and moving in between him and Steve and Phil.

"Guys, I owe you an apology."

Phil and Steve both stared. "Owe us what?" Steve asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Colin nodded. "Roy was out messing around last night, and he wound up sleeping in until the sun was up. Got a bitch of a headache." He put an affectionate arm around a grumpy-looking Roy's broad shoulders. "As you can see, Roy's not feeling his best. I should've told you guys. Could you give us a minute? Get some asprin out of the medicine cabinet while you're at it?"

"Sure," Phil said.

"Sure," Steve nodded, looking immensely relieved. "Sure, Colin. No problem."

"But stay here, guys," Colin called after them. "I got big plans for today and you two are in 'em."

That seemed to cheer the two boys up, and they headed downstairs, eager to help Colin with making Roy feel better. Once they were out of earshot, Colin turned to Roy, who still looked very disgruntled.

"Roy, what's wrong? Why're you acting like this, man? Those two are our friends. We've known 'em for years."

Colin's twin smiled faintly at that, looking pleased but trying not to show it. "You remembered that, did you?"

"Sure did."

"You're doing great, man. I should've given you the heads-up about those two cunts, though."

"Look, they're not cunts," Colin insisted, keeping his voice down. "They're cool! Steve's funny as hell, Roy. You said so! And nobody's smarter than Phil Pacino. These two guys are fun, and we both like hanging out with them." He paused. "Remember that?"

Roy looked grumpy again for a few moments, then sighed and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do, Colin. It's just that before, we- I-" he stopped suddenly. "Nevermind."

"What?" Colin asked curiously. "What about before?"

"There was nothing before," Roy said sharply. "Remember? Nothing from then matters now."

"Well, yeah, I get that," Colin said uneasily, though he didn't really get it at all. "But just make one little exception. You remember them, so- were you friends with them or something?"

Roy was silent a few moments. "Yeah, I was," he admitted finally. "But they were just acquaintances, you know. Not best friends- that kinda surprised me."

"Yeah," Colin said, smiling. "Me, too." The full impact of all those girls eying him yesterday at the beach, numerous hellos and greetings from so many guys and girls his age, and now Steve and Phil coming by, was hitting Colin all at once.

Colin Jacobs had been shy, socially awkward- a loner. Not someone that anybody really wanted to hang out with, because they just weren't interested in the stuff Colin was interested in. Being the odd duck was Colin Jacobs' lot in life, and it hadn't really been that fun.

It was very different in the life of Colin Borden. He was clearly a popular, well-liked boy, one with many friends. Not just a close friend in his twin brother, his blood and birth brother Roy, but multiple friends. Maybe a dozen or more! It was dazzling, and Colin just couldn't let go of the idea. He wanted it bad, as bad as he wanted more of girls being interested in him. There was just no way Colin could turn Steve and Phil away.

"I'm sorry," Roy said after a moment. "Look, I'll patch things up with them, I know how." He paused. "So, what 'big plans' did you have for today?"

"Plans."

"Big ones?"

"Oh, yeah."

"What kinda big plans?"

"Really big ones," Colin said.

"As big as Racquel Welch's tits?"

"Bigger."

"Damn."

"Exactly," Colin grinned.

"Do you really have any plans, or were you gonna just make some stuff up for us to do?" Roy asked.

"Come on and take your asprin, and find out," Colin said, motioning as he headed down the upstairs hallway, towards the kitchen.

 **XX**

Colin soon realized he'd actually gotten a little ahead of himself. He'd talked well, smoothed things over- but he didn't actually have much planned for the day. Memories flashed through his mind as he pressed himself to come up with some plans. Colin Borden definitely liked- loved- being seen doing something, and the more physically active he was the better. His body was superbly tanned from long hours spent outdoors with nothing on but shorts. Powerful jock's muscles testified to tireless workouts, runs, and competitions- with Roy the only real competitor the same age as Colin.

But he remembered other things, too. Roy and Colin both were smart as well as strong, and liked Steven and Phil for their refreshing ability to do more than just play sports and impress girls. 'The guys'- Colin could recall no one in particular, just that he frequently thought of his athlete buddies that way- were cool, but kind of dumb. You couldn't discuss books with them much, or articles you read in a science magazine, and it was a pretty good bet they wouldn't want to go build a model airplane either.

That was where Steven and Phil came in. They were good at stuff like that.

Colin, a bookworm in spirit even if he wasn't one in form anymore, felt a genuine sense of liking for Steven and Phil. Colin and Roy's bodies were far out of the other two boys' league, but mentally they were all on a similar level. They were all genuinely smart, insightful individuals- people who were truly interesting to talk to.

The way Colin had been before, and the way he was now, were essentially two different people. Colin was coming to realize that already, and he knew he had only touched the tip of that iceberg. Yet his old self, and his new self, both felt a sense of appreciation for Steven Rose and Philip Pacino. He could imagine himself being friends with them in either life.

Really, Colin just plain loved the idea of having friends. With an "s". It was, like so many other aspects of his new life, a dream come true.

So rather than admit he didn't really have plans for the day, Colin decided he'd do what Roy probably would in his place: think of something good on the spot. And surprising though it was, after a minute or two, he did just that.

Colin returned to the kitchen with his twin at his side, and together they stood in front of the two skinny boys who looked like they had been trying very hard to casually await the Borden brothers' return.

"So. You guys feel like getting out of here?"

They stared, looking a little surprised. Steve spoke up hesitantly, "Uh, are you guys going with us, or-?"

"No, Steve. We were gonna stay here and do nothing all day, until our Mom gets home and makes us clean everything before and after dinner." Roy said it with a straight face, staring at Steve and Phil. When neither reacted- perhaps they were still nervous- Roy added, "That's a joke, Steve."

Steve grinned comically and clapped his hands. "A joke! I love jokes!"

"I like to wave at them when I see them on the street," Phil added.

"I can tell," Roy said with a smile. Colin smiled too, giving Roy an appreciative glance; he was glad his twin was helping put these two at ease again. "So. You guys ready to hear what Colin's got planned for us?"

"Yep."

"Sure."

Seeing all three now looking at him, Colin put on his best, most confident grin- and momentarily surprised himself by actually coming up with one. Colin Borden was good at grinning, and at looking confident. It was pretty simple to guess that was because he was confident. It was a good feeling, realizing that.

"So, who's up for a bike ride?"

 **XX**

Colin rode out of the Borden driveway stripped to the waist; already he was reverting to his 'old' habits, starting to resume doing things Colin Borden normally did. And a boy with skin as suntanned as his, with this much rippling, bulging muscle, never had much use for shirts in the summertime. You felt cooler and looked hotter without one, both at the same time.

Roy did the same thing, giving Steve and Phil a little good-natured ragging about their decision not to go bare-chested. The boys just grinned sheepishly, making some excuses about getting sunburn more easily. Colin was still amazed at how damn good he looked wearing only some swimming shorts- and how much confidence it gave him. The more he saw how fit he was, the more he wanted other people to see it too.

It was good to be feeling this way- Colin was really getting to like who he was now. And it was good to be out of that house.

 **XX**

They were headed to Steven Rose's place. He lived about ten minutes away, but naturally, Colin and Roy insisted on making it closer to five.

It didn't turn into a race because they'd planned it that way. Neither one of them had said anything about it before they got going. But it didn't take long before that was happening. It started when Colin, just pedaling along, content to just be alone with his thoughts for a few minutes, saw a flash of blond as Roy shot past him; Colin was still staring in surprise when Roy looked back at him over his shoulder and grinned.

Roy made as if to just go pedaling along, innocent as the day he was born. But Colin could remember playing these little competitive games with his brother his whole life- and he wasn't about to lose one now.

"Oh, no you don't," Colin said, half to himself, and put on a burst of speed. Still expecting he'd have to struggle to even keep Roy from racing down the road and out of sight, Colin was startled by how effortlessly he sped up. Without doing any real work at all, he'd passed Roy, and was up in front again.

"Having fun yet?" he called back to Roy, feeling smug at showing him up. But no sooner had he done this than Roy put on a burst of speed, strong legs pumping the bike pedals. In only moments he was alongside Colin, who had reacted in time to speed up himself.

"Feel like a race?" Roy asked, still speaking at a conversational level despite how fast he was going.

"What's the stakes?" Colin asked in reply- he remembered, had learned already, that the two of them had always loved throwing some extra bonus into the challenge. Even if the prize of winning was just the other having to admit he was slower, or not as strong, it helped shake things up and keep the endless physical competition between the boys exciting.

"Well, how about whoever gets to the end of the street second has to tell the other he's a fucking amazing football player, slash stud, slash genius."

"What else?" Colin demanded.

"I might not've told you about every magazine I have."

Colin glared at Roy, trying to look angry but not quite succeeding. Instead he just grinned. "Done! You're on!"

The two boys took off, powerful, athletic legs moving their bikes so fast it was like they'd been standing still only moments ago. Cars parked on either side of the street, bushes and trees, and houses all shot past. Colin didn't take his gaze off the STOP sign and fire hydrant marking the end of the street. He just pedaled, driving his legs as hard as he could, breathing in and out a little louder as his pulse quickened. Beside him, Roy panted a tiny bit, giving a slight grunt as he too bore down and lowered his head a little, looking down the road as if staring through gunsights.

They stayed like this, racing practically neck in neck, until just before they both blasted past the stop sign together, Roy sped up even more- just enough that he was marginally, but solidly ahead of Colin when they both braked to a stop.

"Da-darn it," Colin spat, glaring at Roy as the boy whose face he now shared smirked at him.

"Colin, say 'damn it'" Roy admonished. "We're not in fifth grade anymore."

"Fine," Colin grouched. "Damn it."

"Now, say it. Say 'Roy, you are a fucking amazing football player, slash stud, slash genius."

Colin's glare darkened, but Roy just grinned even wider, a brilliant white smile amid his handsome face. He waited, and finally, Colin knew he had to say the words.

"Roy," he said grudgingly, "You are…"

"Yes?"

"You are a f-fucking amazing football player."

"And what else?"

"Slash stud, slash genius."

Slowly clapping his hands together, Roy nodded smugly. "It's true, you know. I work hard to look this good."

"Which is almost as good as me," Colin shot right back.

"Well, guess what, pretty boy? I look this good, and I'm faster! How do you like it?"

Colin started to reply, then noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was Steven and Phil, both of them looking exhausted and drenched in sweat, pedaling towards them. The red-haired boy called out, "Wait for us!", even though the Borden boys had both stopped. Maybe he was scared they'd start another race again, and just disappear. Steven and Phil had been left a long, long way behind- they were almost at the other end of the street.

"But- they were right behind us," Colin said, stunned at how completely he'd left those two in the dust. Roy being able to do that wasn't news. To Colin it was, considering Steven and Philip were in the kind of shape he'd been, all of his old life.

"Colin," Roy said gently, "haven't you figured out it yet? You're an athlete. You're fit as hell. You're a fucking stud now." He paused, looking at Colin. "How's it feel?"

Thinking of his awesome, powerful muscles, the way girls' heads turned when he walked by at the beach, his incredible stamina, and his more generous endowment below the belt, Colin smiled. "Pretty good."

Roy smiled back. "We're twins, Colin. That feels pretty good too."

Steven and Philip caught up to them just then, panting and wheezing, sweat dripping off their faces.

"Hey, man. Guys? I didn't know, that you, were gonna do that!" Steve whined.

"We almost lost sight of you!" Phil added.

"We were just having a bike race," Roy said casually. "Nothing an athlete can't handle."

"Well, that's just it, we're not athletes!" Steve panted.

"Can you two let me live till school starts, please?" Phil asked wearily. "I can't take much more of this today!"

"Why don't you just hit the gym with us?" Colin asked. "Start pumping some iron?" He raised his arms above his shoulders, flexing the rippling, thick muscle in his biceps and shoulders. Steve and Phil stared.

"Dude," Steve said, "I'm pretty sure you two were born in a gym. You gotta remember some of us are mortal."

A heavily-muscled arm was thrown around Colin's shoulders, and Roy grinned at him. "Think you can take it easy the rest of the way to Steve's house, Hercules?"

"If Phil can tell me what the Ford Pinto's twin is," Colin said, a sly smile coming onto his face.

Steven turned to Phil with a weary, pleading gaze, and Phil looked back anxiously from behind his glasses. His gaze shifted between Steven, Colin, and Roy, and the seconds ticked by.

"Uh… uh… is it the- the Mercury Bobsled?"

"Bobcat," Colin corrected, and Phil's eyes went wide. "Bobcat! Bobcat, I meant Bobcat!"

Waving Steven up front, Colin said, "Close enough. Lead the way, Steve."

"Thank God!" the two skinny boys said together. Following them at a leisurely pace, Roy and Colin exchanged a smile.

 **XX**

"Look at her, man," Steve said, eyes filled with lust as he gazed at the picture of the open magazine. "You ever see a body like that today?"

"Sure," Colin said. "I see 'em check me out every time I go to the beach."

"That's _not_ what I meant," Steve said, exasperated, but Phil cracked up. Roy grinned, laughing himself. "Nice one, Colin."

Once the other boys quieted down, Steven pointed at the magazine again. "Look. I meant _car_ bodies, okay? Not girl bodies. It's the 1957 Chevrolet Nomad. Just stop, and think for a second. Do they make station wagons like that anymore?"

"Nah," Roy said, "they're all big, fat and wide."

"Loaded up with more fake wood than Disneyland," Colin added.

"Nothing like the stuff Harley Earl came up with."

" _Thank_ you!" Steve said, throwing his hands up. "Was that so hard?"

Roy and Colin smirked at him, and Phil started to snigger again.

Blushing almost as red as his hair, Steve said carefully, "Let me rephrase that: was that so _difficult_?"

"No," Roy said simply.

"Of course not," Colin added.

"You guys wanna know what I think?" Phil asked.

"Sure," Roy said, generously waving to indicate he was giving Phil the floor.

Phil often got quiet when the two big jocks of the group, Roy and Colin, got to talking. Steve might at least try to assert himself, and had a game if semi-nervous class-clown act going on to compensate for his shyness and lack of physical strength. But Phil would often just be quiet, laughing along with the group but not saying much himself. Colin was glad to see Roy being so nice to him- and to Steve.

"Well, sometimes things are just ahead of their time. The Nomad wasn't some wood-covered mall cruiser; it was the world's first sports wagon. The Nomad didn't die out because it was a bad car. It died out because people weren't ready for that kind of station wagon. Give it some more time, and things might change." Phil gave an exaggerated, wistful sigh. "Until then, whenever that is, I'm gonna have to wait."

"Brilliant, Phil, my man," Steve grinned, and the two lanky boys exchanged a high-five.

"Just like when we were little kids, huh?" Colin said with a friendly smile, casually clapping Phil on the back as he got up. The dark-haired boy staggered under the blow, winced a little, then smiled. "Wow. Yep. Hurt then, too."

"Colin, man," Steven observed, "sometimes you don't know your own strength."

That was truer than Steven Rose even knew.

 **XX**

After over an hour at Steven's place, the four boys cheerfully arguing over their favourite cars and their respective year-by-year statistics, the beach was calling. At Colin and Roy's collective insistence, the four of them went to Palisades Lane, the long beach-front street that ran parallel to the beach itself for several miles. Steven and Philip ultimately needed surprisingly little persuasion to don swimming trunks and lose their t-shirts; when Colin asked, Steven answered, "Come on, Colin. I know you think you're hot stuff, but we all know it's me the girls are here to look at."

Flexing his underdeveloped bicep and shoulder muscles, Phil grinned as well. "Nah. I'm the life of this party and everybody knows it."

Laughing and shaking their heads good-naturedly, Roy and Colin just let it go. When they had a minute alone, Roy added, "We've been friends with them for years, Colin. They see us more than they see our muscles. Remember that?"

Colin nodded. He did remember. In fact, it was something he'd always respected them for. Steven Rose and Philip Pacino were unlike any of the many other friends the Borden twins had. They were smart, genuinely interesting to talk to about so many things, and you could do activities with them that "the guys" would reject as too boring or nerdy. And besides, they were smart enough to recognize one important thing: Roy and Colin Borden were strong. So strong, so incredibly fit, from dedicating their whole lives to sports and working out that there was no point at all trying to compete.

It was, if Colin remembered right, a lesson he often wished the idiots on teams he played against would learn.

 **XX**

The boys went surfing. Colin and Roy, going out on two boards they kept out at a store here because their parents wouldn't let them be stored at home, drew a sizable crowd. Guys stopped and stared with a mix of admiration and jealousy. Girls looked without the jealousy.

Awkward and clumsy at first, Colin went under a couple of times, and once or twice just wiped out. But to his amazement, no one laughed, not even when a wave knocked him flat on his ass as he was wading back out. The girls just called out encouragement, and some of the guys did too. It gradually dawned on Colin that nobody was going to laugh at him- nobody! He was either too cool, or too intimidating- maybe something of both- and one way or the other, it just wasn't going to happen. Not to him. Not Colin Borden.

And as the sun gradually sank lower, Colin began to remember things. How familiar the feel of the board was, how naturally he had learned to balance himself on top of it, riding some of the meanest waves that had come to Santa Leona in his lifetime. Roy was always there, encouraging him- and the one time a guy on the shore laughed derisively after Colin wiped out, Roy shouted "Hey, buddy- _fuck off_!" so loud the veins on his neck stood out like cords. The guy fucked off.

And while a pale, scrawny- but gamely determined- Steven Rose drew laughs, as did a half-blind Philip Pacino, his glasses stored safely at the store the boards had come from, it wasn't the mocking kind. You could just tell. Steven was always going down, wiping out, but no matter what the waves did to him he always got up again. He also played on his own ineptitude, waving to other surfers, and people on the beach and yelling out things like "I meant to do that!" when a wave knocked him over and he came up, soaked and spluttering.

Phil did much the same thing, just going at it with determination and self-deprecating humor in contrast to Colin and Roy's grace and skill. He might have been a little worse than Steven was at this, but you couldn't see it on his face. He never quit.

Finally, a monster wave came rolling in just as Steven and Phil were wading back from being unceremoniously dumped on the beach by a recent one. While Roy shouted and pointed excitedly, and Colin wobbled slightly but steadily enough moved off to meet it with him, Steven and Phil made a show of themselves, screaming in high-pitched voices and bolting away from the water.

But as for Colin and Roy, that wave was an old friend. They, and the people watching on the beach, had been waiting for it all evening. They rode the crest of the wave all the way in, two twins side by side. Colin's board was less steady under his feet than Roy's; his heart pounded with fear that he would screw this up and be killed at any second.

But he wasn't. If the crowd could tell he wasn't as confident as Roy, they sure didn't show it. The two boys jumped off as the wave ran out, landing on their feet, planting their boards, and striking a triumphant pose in the sand.

The crowd, especially the girls, went wild. Colin quickly found himself bombarded by admirers from a group of 7 to 12-year-old boys who'd been watching. They were small, easily excited by anything Colin said or did, and seemed to talk only in exclamations.

"That was _so cool_!"

"You were _amazing_!"

"Are you guys twins? You _are_! You look _exactly_ alike!"

" _I_ wanna surf like that! Can you teach me?"

"Teach _me_!"

"I'm gonna be that strong when _I'm_ your age!" a nine-year old boy boasted, sticking out his little bare chest, posing as if his stick-like arms were as muscular as Colin's.

"Confident," Roy said, kneeling beside Colin. "I like that."

Colin sighed inwardly. As cute and fun as the little boys were, they were not half as interesting to him as the pretty girls, looking to be from thirteen and fourteen to high school or maybe even college age, that had been eying him and Roy with obvious interest. Colin wanted to drink that up, to bask in the fact that girls were admiring him as well as Roy, and here he was playing around with these little kids.

"Colin," Roy said quietly, "watch this."

He then scooped the blond nine-year-old up and placed him on his shoulders. "Wow!" the boy exclaimed, looking around at how high up he was. He started pressing and poking at Roy's fourteen-year-old bodybuilder's muscle. "Wow!" he said again. Colin, glancing around as carefully as he could, saw more than a few girls smiling as they looked at Roy.

"Who wants a piggy-back ride?" Colin suddenly called out, and immediately he was besieged by a tide of shouting, pushing little boys. He wound up with two wrestling for space on his broad back and just picked two more up, holding them by their stomachs in his arms. One had to be about seven, and he felt like he weighed all of ten pounds.

"That's _so_ cute," Colin heard a girl in a dark red bikini say.

"They're hot guys, _and_ nice guys."

"Can you believe they're actually _single_?"

"Oh my God. _Both_ of them?"

 **XX**

After Colin and Roy played around with the kids some more, the boys' parents finally came by and shooed them away. They, too, cast admiring glances towards the twins before going on their way.

By then it was after dark, and the crowd had mostly dispersed. But to Colin's delight, a couple of girls had stuck around. They looked so good they could have been swimsuit models, and they introduced themselves and cuddled up beside a Borden twin each as the stars- and the fireworks- came out. Colin was blown away to have someone this beautiful sitting beside him, a girl who Roy later told him was fifteen. Steven and Phil had also snagged somebody, and looked as stunned by it as Colin felt. Maybe they were only being given attention because it was clear they were friends with Colin and Roy, but that was all right with Colin.

Steven and Philip were good guys. They deserved a bonus like that now and then.

Sitting beside his slender, bikini-clad date for the evening- Colin couldn't quite remember her name- Colin looked up at the sky as little groups up and down the beach started shooting fireworks off. The booming, thunderous explosions sent colorful starbursts across the darkened sky. Red, white and blue was naturally a popular color choice, and the noise and light went on for hours.

"So, where do you go to school?" Colin asked, making another awkward attempt at talking to this girl. He had to almost yell to be hard over the noise.

She said something.

"What?" Colin asked. It sounded like she'd said "El Jay Caminos."

"Central High School," she said, a little louder.

"Me, too!" Colin exclaimed suddenly. He remembered the name of the school he and Roy were going to, where they'd be 9th graders in the fall.

"Well, hey, maybe we'll have some classes together," the girl said.

Most guys were probably dying inside at the idea of having to go back to school. Right then, Colin loved the words "classes" and "school" as much as anything else in the world.

It was such a beautiful night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

The sun was coming up outside, birds were chirping in a tree near the house. Cicadas were practicing, hinting at the racket they'd be making later on. Even at seven in the morning, it was promising to be a warm, sunny day.

Colin lay in bed even after he first woke up, comfortably resting under the covers. He became conscious of the fact that he was wearing almost nothing; just his underwear. Odd, since he'd never exactly made a habit of it. Maybe he'd been pretending to be Roy, acting foolishly and posing his skinny body in front of a mirror last night.

Speaking of pretending to be Roy…

He had the strangest feeling about something. An exceptionally vivid dream, of which he could remember some truly incredible details. Colin had experienced one spectacular dream last night, apparently, in which he'd lived out his most fervent desire: to be exactly like Roy Borden. Just as cool, just as confident, just as extremely fit and attractive. Colin remembered admiring his rippling, bulging muscles, remembered his voice in the dream- he'd even sounded just like Roy.

Colin remembered going to the beach, girls checking him out- and how amazed he'd been to realize it was happening. And, as embarrassed as Colin was to recall such a detail so clearly, he remembered having a longer penis, larger balls, and even the sensations he'd felt in the dream- masturbating in the bathroom.

Roy's mom was cold, his father pretty distracted with his own concerns. For some reason, Colin remembered a strong sense that whacking off was a regular past-time for him, as the pleasure of the act provided a happy escape from his emotionally-neglectful parents. A hundred other little details and observations, memories of things he'd done as Roy Borden's twin brother, even memories of the two of them as little boys of nine or ten, already obsessively wrestling and working out. Colin lay there a moment, stunned by it. He'd never had a dream this big, this detailed, in his life.

He savored it for a few moments more before opening his eyes. Being strong, confident, muscular and fast. Popular, attractive, surrounded by friends. Things he'd never been, would probably never be, in real life. Colin hoped he could go hang out with Roy later today, and tell him about the dream sometime. Roy'd get a kick out of the idea of him and Colin being twin brothers. Maybe he'd even call it a popper.

Rolling over, Colin groped around on the floor for his glasses. Damn it. He could've sworn he'd put them here last night. No, maybe over there. He wasn't exactly in a hurry to go staring around the room without his thick eyeglasses on, compensating for his eyes' inability to see properly on their own. That connected to one other thing he remembered clearly from the dream; he'd been able to see perfectly without any glasses. It had actually been quite wonderful.

Colin finally sighed and gave up. He'd have to open his eyes sometime. Colin sat up and immediately banged his head. On what? Since when had his room had a bunk-bed?

"Ow!" Colin said, groaning and putting a hand to his head. He opened his eyes, looked up at the underside of the bed above him. "What the heck is that there for?"

He leaned over the side of his bed, determined to find his glasses, and finally located them, collecting dust behind a row of shoes. Athletic shoes. Why on earth did he need that many running shoes and- football cleats? What was he gonna do with those? Dress up in Roy's damn football uniform?

Colin was about to put on his glasses when Roy came into the room- a room which, Colin noticed with a jolt, looked nothing like his at all. "Hey, you. Sleeping beauty. You catch some action on the beach, or did you just try like me?"

Having no idea what Roy was talking about, Colin decided to be a wiseass and humor him. "Well, we messed around a little, but when I tried to get to third base she slapped my hand away. You know how it is."

"Don't I ever," Roy said, looking disgruntled and mournful at the same time. "They'll let me look all I want, but if I try to get a hand under that swimsuit I get smacked. Do they _want_ some action or _don't_ they?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Well, better get up. We got a lot of work to do today. Mom says we didn't do a good job last time, so we have to clean the whole house. Again."

"Mom?" Colin stared in confusion, added to by the odd fact that he seemed able to see Roy pretty well despite him being about ten feet away. "My Mom works at the art gallery, Roy, and she doesn't care that much about-" he stopped, noticing the sound of his voice. It was odd. He didn't sound like himself, but he didn't sound sick either. He sounded like…

"Colin," Roy said, "What's your last name? Where are you?"

"Actually, it's Jimmy," Colin answered. "Jimmy Hoffa. And I'm in the Twilight Zone. How about you?"

Roy gave him a slightly irritated look. "You stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Jeez, Colin, you know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do!"

"Nah, I don't think so." It was eerie how much his voice still sounded like Roy's…

"Colin!" Roy sounded close to actually getting annoyed, so Colin decided to straighten up a little.

"I'm Colin Jacobs," he said. "And my eyesight must be getting better, because I can see you okay before I even put on my glasses."

Roy looked at him for a long time without saying anything.

"What?" Colin asked, getting weirded out by the silence and Roy's fixed stare.

"Colin," Roy said slowly as he pushed off from leaning in the doorway, "I don't think you know what's actually going on." He looked at Colin again, that piercing, thoughtful gaze coming from under his straw-blond hair. "Lemme ask you something. Did you have a dream last night?"

"Yeah, I did, actually," Colin nodded.

"Uh-huh. And, by any chance, did this dream have you looking exactly like me, doing stuff that I do? Being my twin brother, maybe?"

"Yeah," Colin said, embarrassed that Roy had guessed it so easily. He already hero-worshipped Roy, but it would be so dorky and pitiful if Roy knew just how far that went. "It was kinda dumb, but- yeah." He shrugged, trying hard not to look stupid in front of Roy. "It was just a dream." He paused, "Hey, if you wanna sleep over that's fine, but next time can you please tell me you're gonna have a bunk-bed installed?"

Roy sat down beside him, still looking at him in that serious, piercing way.

"That was a joke, Roy."

Slowly, Roy shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was very quiet.

"No joke." He gestured. "Colin, try putting on your glasses."

"Sure. I'll walk into walls without 'em anyway."

Colin put his glasses on and was immediately rewarded with a flat, blurry room, and a feeling of revulsion from his eyes, which seemed to be saying, _Hey, boss, I don't need this. Wrong prescription. Take 'em off, you got me?_

The moment Colin did, everything was clear again. He could see around the room just fine.

Roy was there beside him, dressed in jean shorts and a sleeveless red t-shirt. "Colin, look down. Take the covers off, look at yourself." When Colin hesitated, Roy waved impatiently. "Go on, it's not like you've got something I haven't seen already."

Colin's growing sense of things being eerie, bizarrely out-of-place, was a blaring alarm by now. What the heck was going on? What was all this? But doing as Roy wanted him to, Colin pulled the covers off his lower half, and for the first time since he woke up really took a look at himself.

His chest was two smooth, firm paving slabs, accompanied by an anvil-hard six-pack beneath it. Legs thick with athlete's muscle fit well with the rippling, bulging, cover-of-a-fitness-magazine arms Colin saw himself wearing. And every inch of skin was beautifully well-tanned, the result of many hours spent outside in the summertime.

Stunned and speechless, Colin sat there as Roy went and got a small mirror off his dresser and brought it over. Holding it up, he said, "Look in it, Colin."

Hearing Roy's voice speak the words, seeing Roy's face, his moving lips, Colin said, "It wasn't a dream."

Roy shook his head. "No, Colin. It wasn't."

Elation suddenly filled Colin, and he looked at Roy excitedly. "It wasn't a dream! It wasn't a _dream_!"

"Yeah, man, that's what I'm _saying_!"

"Look at me, Roy- I'm a _stud_! It wasn't a _dream_?!" Colin grabbed Roy and hugged him, doing so with amazing strength, yet so casually used.

"Hey, man, get off me!" Roy gasped.

"No!"

"Seriously, I gotta breathe!"

When Colin didn't let go, Roy started trying to pry him off, to which Colin responded by only holding on tighter. They started to grapple, and abruptly crashed to the hardwood floor of the bedroom.

Colin seized the upper hand, pinning a fiercely struggling Roy to the floor. The two boys grunted and hissed, groaning as they exerted immensely powerful muscles against each other. "I always _was_ better at this!" he boasted, exulting in memory of the many times he'd won wrestling matches with other boys at school, and the many he'd won against Roy- which had always meant the most.

"Kiss me my ass!" Roy spat, fighting to buck Colin off him.

They fought on, Colin managing to keep his dominant position despite Roy's best efforts, until they each noticed someone was watching the proceedings.

Mrs. Borden stood in the doorway, cool and unimpressed as she looked at the two of them. "So. Of course, Roy, you didn't get Colin out of bed on time like you promised. But then I've come to expect that. And Colin said he'd get up on time. You're a habitual liar, Colin. Both of you are."

Face burning with shame, Colin got off Roy and stood up beside him. "Sorry, Mrs.- Mom," he said.

"Mrs. Mom." Mrs. Borden's voice was hard and flat.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Colin said again. He hung his head, adding, "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"No, you're not, Colin," she said harshly. "And you'll do it again. I hope you enjoyed your little wrestling match, because the time you wasted doing that was the time you were supposed to be at breakfast. Get the mulch put in the gardens on time or you won't be eating until dinner. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom," Colin said again. He felt so horribly guilty, yet nothing he said seemed to convince Mrs. Borden of that. Why did she keep looking at him like he was some awful little vandal?

"Get dressed, Colin, and brush your teeth. I want you both downstairs in five minutes."

"Yes, Mom," both boys chorused.

Once Mrs. Borden had left the room, Colin said quietly, "Sure wish _that_ was just a dream."

"Yeah," Roy said. "Me, too."

 **XX**

Colin's powerful arms carried the four bags of mulch he was using out to the front yard in just two easy trips, and just a brief flexing of his biceps got the first one's plastic exterior torn open. What wasn't easy was the slow, laborious process of spreading the mulch around, and Colin's hands were starting to complain before long- almost as much as Colin wished he could. He also wished he was allowed to work alongside Roy, who was working on the back yard's garden area. And as the sun and the temperature both climbed, Colin- also forbidden from taking his shirt off because it was 'unsightly', but probably because Mrs. Borden knew he and Roy liked that- felt truly miserable.

His belly growled. Quietly at first, then louder. Colin worked hard to get done by eleven, not wanting to miss his lunch.

And worst of all was the growing realization, the recovering memory, that it had been like this all his life. He had visions of a thoroughly unhappy Colin and Roy slaving away outside, doing every kind of busy work and drudgery there was, going back years. Mrs. Borden hardly ever hired anyone to come work on the house- and why would she? The muscles the girls all so much admired, and the guys envied, were perfect for her purposes. Roy and Colin made the perfect work horses, and best of all, they worked for free. All you had to do was let them sleep and piss somewhere, and feed them. Just like a horse.

"Except they treat horses better than this," Colin said to himself, barely above a whisper, as he worked in the garden. He was sure Roy was planning on doing, or had already done, something cool and defiant. Like urinating in the precious, newly-mulched garden, or spitting on it or something like that. But Colin, even if he looked like Roy and had his voice, didn't feel like him. Not now, anyway.

 **XX**

"Get yourselves cleaned up," Mrs. Borden said when she saw the two grimy, sweaty boys at her basement door, each reporting his share of the mulch work was done. "Take a shower and put on the fresh clothes I brought down for you. Then hurry up; there's sandwiches in the kitchen."

Colin nodded and did as he was told, careful not to make a mess as he made his way to the downstairs bathroom. He savored the shower, short as it was, and smiled a little as he checked himself out in the mirror. My, but I've gotten handsome, he thought. Too bad nobody but Roy seemed to appreciate it in this house.

"Hang in there," Roy said, keeping his voice low, when Colin came out. "Just remember _Playboy_ 's waiting."

Colin hoped for a little time to talk with Roy while they ate in the kitchen, but Mrs. Borden made them stop the minute they started. "If you two start talking, you'll start yakking on about sports statistics and waste an hour," Mrs. Borden said. "Just eat, and get back outside to clean up the mess you made. Throw the empty mulch bags away, put the tools back in the shed, then get back inside. I want this house clean before your father and I get back this evening. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom," Colin and Roy said together.

What a fun house this was.

 **XX**

Colin worked harder at cleaning the house than he'd ever worked at cleaning anything in his life. His mother- _My_ old _mother_ , Colin corrected himself- didn't have this obsession with everything being spotless. She wanted the house to look nice, be clean enough, but Colin was getting the impression that with Mrs. Borden, there might not be a "clean enough".

He accepted the Sears catalogue of tasks given to him without hesitation, though, because he had learned long ago that when somebody held the whip, you did what they told you. Resistance or disobedience just made things worse for you. Eventually, if you behaved, the oppressor would shut up and go away.

But they'd always be back. Colin knew that too. The worst part was that Mrs. Borden doubtless believed, somewhere in her mind, that this harsh, rigidly-disciplined life she forced her sons to live was being done "for their own good". Colin remembered having read somewhere, someone who'd said that those were the worst kind of oppressors, the most utterly relentless, because they did so with their conscience's approval.

 _How else_ , Colin wondered as he scrubbed a soapy sponge over every last kitchen tile for the third time, _could you explain her being like this_?

When Mrs. Borden came downstairs, getting ready to go out, Colin tensed up involuntarily as her shadow fell over him. Here we go…

"Colin," she said, her voice terse as it always seemed to be when she addressed him or Roy, "That floor is going to be perfect when I get back. I mean it, Colin. Perfect." Her voice was particularly hard as she talked about the white tiled kitchen floor, making Colin wonder for just a moment if there was some reason for it.

"Yes, Mom," Colin said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"You and Roy had better shape up and do your chores properly. If you don't, you can forget about playing your childish little football games this fall. I don't care what Coach Whoever-It-Was told you."

This caused a jolt of fear in Colin, who had never played football in his life. Or hadn't, as Colin Jacobs. A sudden mental picture came to Colin: a football in his hands, joy in his heart as he prepared to throw it back to Roy. He loved football. No way could he let that be taken away from him. He had to play this game now- do whatever he had to- so he could play the one he loved later.

"Yes, Mom," Colin said, hanging his head as he stared at the tiles. Finally, without another word, she walked to the door, closed it behind her, and was gone.

Colin remained tense until her car pulled out of the driveway, and even the was sure- absolutely sure- that she'd forgotten something, or that she'd just turn around and come back to make sure nobody was having any fun. But she didn't come back. She'd gone to her goddamned gift shop, Treasured Things, where she'd be for the rest of the goddamned afternoon, selling her goddamned overpriced junk to the goddamned stupid tourists. He'd have to put up with her for now. _But when I get to the end of high school it's gonna be_ _BANG,_ _I'm outta here, into the Army or the Marines or any old fucking place where I don't have to take this shit anymore, it's just gonna be me and Roy, Roy and me, it's gonna be what I want, MY way, mine, mine, mine MINE_ -

Colin gasped, inhaling suddenly, wide-eyed and blinking as he sat on his knees on the kitchen floor. What had just happened? He'd felt a kind of anger surging into him then, as those thoughts raced through him, that he'd never known in his entire life. He hadn't just been mad, or angry- those words just weren't close at all. Fury. That fit much better.

It made Colin feel scared. He didn't like it. Determined to shake that fury out of him, he took a breath, let it out. And then he went back to scrubbing.

He'd resumed his task barely a minute when Roy came bounding down the stairs. He weighed quite a lot for fourteen years old, making heavy thuds in the hardwood floor beneath the carpeting.

"Ding, dong," Roy sang, "The witch is dead, the witch is dead. Ding, dong, the wicked witch is dead!" He stopped at the kitchen door, grinning. "Well, we're not _that_ lucky yet. But she's left the house, so hey- something's better than nothing, right?"

Colin grinned back for a moment, but sobered up quicker than he'd meant to. He couldn't help it. He was still shaken after feeling that unending, bottomless fury flood into him. And before that, he'd been wondering why his mother treated him and Roy the way she did- the question had been on his mind a lot.

But trying to think of something cheerier to say, Colin instead thought of something- thought of meeting Coach Molinoff the other day, how he'd been so cool about talking Molinoff into letting shy, awkward Colin be brought on as the team's manager.

"So, hey- am I still gonna be the football manager-" Colin managed to say, but white puffs of rice blotted out his vision.

 _Football manager- Roy was- was telling Coach Molinoff I could be football manager_ -

" _You really think so?"_

 _Colin had always been an outsider with sports, an outsider- never a participant-_

" _Don't give me that wide-eyed look. You and Roy are the best players on the junior varsity team, and you both know it. There's no virtue in false modesty, men."_

Thoughts and mental images, conflicting memories, went to war in his mind. Two memories of the same conversation, on the same day, battled for dominance, and it hurt so bad tears leaked out under Colin's tightly shut eyelids. His brain pounded on the inside of his skull, in full and total rebellion, screaming to be let out. Breaking out in a sweat, Colin tried to steady himself and just succeeded in swinging a heavy arm into his bucket, spilling soapy water all over the floor.

"Oh, shit," Roy said in dismay, and rushed around the kitchen, grabbing towels and stopping the water from flowing off the tiles and onto the carpet of the living room, or the hardwood of the dining room. Colin contributed a great deal to this process by moaning, sweating and holding his head, eyes shut.

Then he was back, getting his arms under Colin's. "Come on, up you go."

"I can't walk, Roy," Colin moaned. "It's that bad."

"Don't give me that. Get up. Let's go."

Colin struggled to his feet, head pounding, vision coming and going- he could hardly see. He took one step forward and stumbled, almost fell over. He would have gone down on his face if Roy hadn't held him up. Swaying like a drunk, Colin made a beeline for the sofa, barely missing the coffee table.

"Okay, lie down now. Down, Colin, just lie down."

"Okay," Colin said, hearing his own voice distantly- as if in a daze. "Oh, man," he said, moaning and shutting his eyes- the sunlight made his headache flare into agony again, just when it had been starting to recede.

A moment later the room darkened, as Colin heard the sound of the curtains being dragged towards each other.

Then Roy was with him again, holding out some white pills and a glass of water. "This'll help," he said. Colin clumsily groped for the pills, choked down some of the water, then coughed and managed to drink the rest. But he got the pills down, and after that Roy was pressing him back against the couch again.

"You did it again, didn't you?" Roy said, more a statement than a question. "You tried to think of two opposing memories at once."

"Yeah," Colin admitted. He carefully avoided thinking about it again, steered away- for now- from sports altogether. He lay there on the sofa for a while. How long he wasn't sure- it could've been one minute or five. Right now his sense of time wasn't the best.

"Colin."

"Yeah."

"I don't feel so good."

"You don't look so good, either," Roy replied. "That double-memory stuff sure knocked you on your ass."

"Worse than a migraine," Colin said. "Felt like- my head was getting pulled in half."

"Listen, Colin, I want you to just get some rest for a while. Don't go anywhere until you know you're feeling better."

"No, I- I gotta finish my chores," Colin said, trying to sit up, but Roy's hand stopped him.

"You're staying," he said firmly. "I'm not gonna have you hurt yourself because of that old lady."

"Why do _you_ care so much?" Colin asked, surprised and touched at the way Roy was fussing over him.

"You're my brother." Roy's voice actually trembled a little as he said it.

Colin didn't want to mess up the moment, so he closed his eyes and didn't say anything. Roy got up after a minute. "I'll check on you in a little bit, see how you're doing."

"Hey, Roy," Colin called after him as he started to go.

"Yeah?"

"How come this hasn't happened to you yet? Getting a migraine like this and all?"

He opened his eyes to see Roy staring at him, his face expressionless. "What?"

"Colin," Roy said slowly, "I don't know how else to tell you this. I don't think about anything from before."

"Why not?" the question was too intriguing not to ask.

"Because there was nothing before, Colin. That's the only way I can say it. Do yourself a favor and just forget any of it was ever there. All that matters is who you are now."

With that, he turned and left the room.

 **XX**

When Colin opened his eyes, he felt much better. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and felt a rush of guilt. Had he really conked out for over an hour? He'd just laid here on the couch, relaxing while Roy did all the work!

Getting up, Colin found he could stand steadily enough. He felt okay, able to walk on his own once again. He set off in search of Roy, making his way through the silent house. He checked one room, then another.

Reaching the basement bathroom, Colin started to push open the door without thinking, and was confronted with the sight of Roy gazing at a nude model all fours, getting it from behind from a very handsome-looking man. One hand was furiously at work between Roy's legs. His head jerked to the left as he noticed the door opening. At the same instant, Colin blushed crimson and withdrew.

"Oh, _shit_ ," Roy said, dropping the magazine, and Colin backed hurriedly out of the room, thinking the same thing.

Roy's belt buckle clinked a couple times as he tried to pull up his pants, but he must have done it in too much of a hurry, because Colin heard him exclaim "Aw, fuck!" and fall against the sink.

But Colin stood there outside the bathroom, knowing he had to wait for Roy to come out, if only so he could apologize.

Roy quietly came out of the bathroom and closed the door. He gave Colin a rueful smile. "I thought you were still out."

"Sorry," Colin said, looking away, his face burning. "I'm really sorry, Roy. I mean it."

"It's fine," Roy said, shrugging. He sighed. "Christ, I was off in fantasyland, banging that hot slut in the mag… and now I'm back in this shithole."

"I won't interrupt you again, Roy, not ever." Colin was still horribly embarrassed over disturbing Roy- and for walking in on him at such a moment.

"Look, Colin, I forgive you. It's not that big a deal."

"Well, okay." Colin still felt awful.

"Okay, well- how about I show you where I keep 'em?"

"The magazines?"

"Yep. Some photos I've gotten my hands on, too."

Colin smiled. "Cool."

"You know," Roy said, "You and me gotta get back to watching those skin flicks they show at the drive-in theater late at night. You've been making me go with you to those since you first got a hard-on." He smiled. "Good thing I always wanted to go, too. Remember that?"

Cock. Ass. Tits. Pussy. Dick. Colin suddenly remembered a whole vocabulary of dirty words, terms he liked to use and things he just loved to see. He remembered how he and Roy would ride their bikes up to the hill overlooking the drive-in, then lie flat on the grass and watch what was on that night. Sometimes, if something real good was on, Colin couldn't wait for the ride home. For that matter, neither could Roy. Taking turns, they'd go jerk off in the bushes, 'relieving' themselves. And feeling much, much better, they'd ride home.

Temporary though those night-time escapes were, they helped. They distracted from how joyless life at home was, and already Colin could tell- and was remembering- how needed distractions from that, chances to blow off some steam, really were.

"Yeah," Colin said, embarrassed at all these guilty pleasures he'd been indulging in, and in such a guilt-free manner- yet not quite able to turn himself away from them. He remembered too much of how much fun these things were, and how delighted he was that they'd managed to conceal this stash, these trips to the theater, from their parents.

"Well, come on," Roy said, and he led Colin upstairs.

 **XX**

With some primitive but determined skill in carpentry, Roy had created a false bottom for one of their dressers. Looking underneath them, you'd notice nothing at a glance- they looked exactly alike. But one, if you slid the bottom to one side in just the right way, would come loose- and a small library of pornographic magazines, swimsuit and women's underwear fashion, and some very nice pictures of nude women would come spilling out.

"It's been damn hard to get this all together," Roy said reflectively. "If you and me weren't such charmers, no way would we have them. But we do, so that's all that matters."

"Us? We're charmers?" Colin said in disbelief.

"Yep," Roy nodded. "You're exactly like me now, Colin. We can get what we want from just about anybody. It's all about… talking 'em into it."

"Except Mom," Colin said, sobering.

"Except Mom," Roy agreed ruefully.

"Why does she treat us like this?" Colin asked. "She seems like she hates us."

"She does, Colin."

"Why?"

"You really don't wanna know."

"I do."

"Look," Roy sighed, "I guess I'll have to tell you sometime. But just let it wait, okay? Believe me, when you know, you'll wish you could forget again."

"Does it have anything to do with the scars?" Colin asked, remembering vividly the pain- the white-hot agony- that had accompanied those jagged rips and tears on his back, but oddly enough, not the source.

"It has everything to do with the scars," Roy said quietly. He picked out a magazine from the stack- _Playboy_ of May 1980- and handed it to Colin. "This one's one of your favorites. The blond on page 53. You'll remember."

He started for the door, adding, "As long as we've got everything done by about 5, we'll be fine. Oh, and Colin- please don't interrupt me this time."

"I promise," Colin said.

"Thanks," Roy replied, and he left.

The temptations of the bathroom were too much to resist; Colin was in there, pants around his ankles as he squatted on the toilet, within five minutes. Masturbating brought a kind of pleasure Colin loved, and it took him somewhere far away from the bullshit he had to live with every day at this house. It took him away from having to think about how he'd got the scars. Even if he'd still be in this goddamn house when he came back, escaping for a little while was wonderful.

After he'd finished up, flushed the toilet, and re-hidden the magazine, Colin went back downstairs to finish cleaning the kitchen. His penis ached happily, as did his balls- thanking him for the recent experience. Colin felt more relaxed, better about things in general. The fury that had surged into him soon after Mrs. Borden had left was miles away, and Colin was glad for that. He resolved never to be ashamed of that particular activity, and to always help make sure he and Roy had that available when they needed it. Because there wasn't a doubt in his mind that they did.

Secretly, in a place deep down inside him, Colin wondered if it would be enough.

 **XX**

The next day things went better. Mrs. Borden assigned them some tasks to do, but said nothing about their back-breaking work yesterday. Colin took this to mean they'd done the work to her satisfaction, enough at least that she wouldn't make them do it again, but at the same time she wasn't about to praise them or something they'd done. Colin remembered that very well- it just popped into his head, something he'd known for years and, seemingly, forgotten about.

With much less work to do today than yesterday, Colin and Roy finished well ahead of schedule. Free to leave the house- "Mom doesn't much care where we go, or even if we get back late, as long as her dumbass house is clean," Roy explained- the boys put on a good pair of shorts, left their shirts in their room, and biked out of the neighborhood in a big hurry. In only seconds it turned into a race to the stop sign at the end of the block- a race that Colin won!

At Charlie's Café along the beach, Colin and Roy arm-wrestled over half a dozen times, of which Colin won about half. Even when he lost- and this was something Colin was quickly coming to realize applied to more than just arm wrestling between him and Roy- it was always close. Lots of people, especially teenage boys and girls, gathered to watch, or sometimes, if a boy was feeling bold, to challenge one of the Borden brothers.

When that happened, the other would immediately assume the role of coach, of advisor and top supporter. It was all Colin could do to not shout himself hoarse, encouraging Roy, urging him on, a situation Roy seemed to be experiencing himself when it was Colin who got a challenger. And to Colin's surprise, pride and joy, neither he nor Roy lost even once.

Colin found himself exchanging high-fives or returning greetings with dozens of guys his age, and getting warm and fuzzy as one pretty girl after another said something to him, or caught his eye. It was dizzying, being the subject of so much attention and adoration. It was better than being drunk on alcohol could ever be- Colin knew it without ever having tasted a drop. He loved it.

After a while, though, once they'd each had lunch on the house- the owner of the place, Charlie himself, wouldn't take their money this time- Roy suggested they head over to the library. Reacting mostly on his old bookworm instincts, Colin agreed.

 **XX**

"No shoes, no shirt- this isn't a beach café," Mrs. Larkin said, giving them a hard, disapproving look as they came in. "You boys can't come in dressed like this."

"Aw, come on, Mrs. Larkin," Roy said, his tone shifting, becoming pleading and apologetic, just as his eyes and expression were. "We just came from the beach."

"I can tell."

"Well, can't you give us a break?" Roy asked. "It'd sure be nice of you."

"We'd really appreciate it if you could, Mrs. Larkin," Colin said, stepping forward. "You know me well enough to know I won't do this all the time." He smiled, expecting one in return.

But Mrs. Larkin looked down her nose, past her spectacles, to cast further disapproval on him. "I know no such thing. I know you boys think rules don't apply to you since you're so popular, but that isn't so. And if you somehow forgot, Colin, every _time_ you've come in here this summer you've been dressed like this. And you ask me to bend the dress code for you every time."

"Please?" Roy asked, pleading still.

"Yeah, please?" Colin added, managing to hide his surprise at Mrs. Larkin being so stern with him- he'd been one of her favourites, once.

"I'm afraid not," she said, standing firm. Her face and tone softened a little after a moment. "It's the library dress code, boys. I don't make every rule around here, but I enforce them all the same."

Reluctantly withdrawing to the street, Colin and Roy rode back to the beach and bought a pair of t-shirts, as well as some sandals. Once they returned, grudgingly abiding by the library dress code, Mrs. Larkin let them pass by her without further argument.

"Thank _God_ ," Colin whispered with exaggerated relief, once they were safely behind a few shelves. Roy's eyes went wide, and he clapped a hand to his mouth for a moment, shaking his head at Colin.

"Fucking wiseass," he whispered finally, to which Colin just grinned.

 **XX**

Roy wasted no time in telling Colin why he wanted to come here.

"That house," Roy said, his voice low. "I gotta know more about that house. That old place- there's gotta be some reason why it did what it did, and noplace else could've."

Colin frowned, staring at the table he and Roy were sitting at- in a corner of the library, far away from any others. The Kingman place had been on his mind, one way or another, ever since he and Roy had been there. He was dying to know more about it, too.

"Maybe… all those people that got killed there… maybe that has something to do with it."

Roy looked at Colin for a long time. "Blood." That was all he said for almost a minute. "All that blood."

"Yep, blood," Colin nodded. "I bet you could've painted that whole house with it. And maybe the rest of Santa Leona, too."

"I'm being serious," Roy said, and Colin just shrugged. "So am I."

Sighing and shaking his head, Roy got up. "Come on," he said, "We have some reading to do."

Politely asking to see the microfilm projector, and a handful of very specific books on Santa Leona town history, Roy and Colin were nearly silent for over an hour. They hunted through one book, then the next, scanned over one strip of microfilm, motioning the other over if they found something. Newspapers going back for decades were preserved in the microfilm, and when Colin finally began to hit upon the right ones, he felt a rush. It was incredible, learning so much about the Kingman place, and what had happened there.

Roy was as entranced as he was, and they shared discoveries, conferred over pieces of information, took turns gazing at sections of microfilm. Colin found a copy of a recent newspaper, containing an article about the destruction of the dilapidated mansion on the hill- the old Kingman property. It was a mystery fire, no one likely to be charged. Police and fire officials seemed to be going on a theory that something- maybe an old stove, a boiler with some steam still in it- had finally let go, starting a fire that wound up burning the place down.

There didn't seem to be any new developments on what was going to be done with the property. No one seemed willing to admit it, but nobody seemed to want it. If anything, the officials quoted, even the newspaper journalist himself, seemed relieved the house was gone. It would be easier to ignore now.

Finally, Roy stood up, turning off the microfilm projector. "Let's get everything put back. I don't wanna say anything else here."

Roy and Colin were diligent about returning everything they had borrowed, polite in thanking Mrs. Larkin for her help, and then smug- very smug- as they pulled their shirts over their heads together, and then went out the door.

 **XX**

They biked out along Broadway, following it until they turned onto Hawk Drive. It was getting late in the afternoon; the sun cast an orange-yellowish glow over everything. The heat remained strong, though, and Colin was happy for going on the fiftieth time that he looked so good, felt so confident about going outside with his shirt off. It was much, much easier to stand the heat that way.

"There it is," Roy said, half to himself, as they biked up Hawk Drive. The house was a blackened, charred ruin; very little was left of the once-imposing mansion it had been. There was a corner of brick wall here, one incredibly-intact chimney there. But mostly there was just a lot of black brick and charcoaled wood, piled on top of itself.

Leaving their bikes on the grass, Roy and Colin walked up to the house, stood where its front porch had once been. Roy paced back and forth, seemingly looking for something. He found it at the same time Colin realized the surviving chimney- by far the biggest, most substantial piece of the house left standing- was the one with the white- now charred and gray- marble mantelpiece. It was the chimney that came up and out of the dressing room. Roy stood there in the ruins, the ashes that remained of the hardwood floor, staring around.

"Here," he said, almost a whisper. "It was here. It- it happened right here. First Kingman, then us."

Colin climbed over the leftovers of the wall, joined Roy in what remained of the room.

"Do you think there's some kind of connection, Roy?"

"Exactly, Colin!" Roy seized Colin's broad shoulders- he still couldn't believe how much muscle he possessed now- and turned him to face him. "Exactly!" he said again. "I mean, _think_ about it! All that goddamn _blood_ \- I mean, maybe there _is_!"

"Blood," Colin said, not much liking the word but at least not feeling as queasy as he might have, had he still been Colin Jacobs. He paused, thinking. "So, you think it- it did something? Left the house some kind of… some kind of power?"

Roy nodded excitedly, letting go of Colin. "Here- look. I think I know what happened. But I want you to tell me what you think happened. Go on. You're getting there already."

Colin took a few moments before he began, gathering his thoughts. He'd read so many books in his old life, so many stories dealing with horror, with the supernatural, and now, for the first time in his life, had actually experienced a supernatural event. He was living proof that strange things with power beyond ordinary people really did exist, in the dark corners of the world, where few wanted to go.

But any writer could have said that any such thing, any such place- well, it just had to have a story behind it. Even if it was real. Perhaps especially if it was real.

"Well… what Mr. Kingman did… it was horrible."

"Aw, come on, it was awesome!"

"No, no," Colin shook his head, too busy trying to figure this out. "I mean, he didn't just kill people, or even a bunch of people. He killed kids. His wife. And he did it while they were asleep. You don't get more helpless than that."

Roy nodded, deep in thought now himself. "Go on."

"Well, remember how some human cultures in the past- real ones- have had blood rituals? Human sacrifice and things like that?"

"Yeah. The Aztecs, the Mayans. Like them."

Trying to find the right words, Colin hesitated. "I think- I think that has something to do with it. Kingman, when he killed his family, every one of his victims was helpless. Innocent."

"There are no innocents in life, Colin."

Colin stopped, startled; Roy's voice was surprisingly hard as he said that. Like he not only meant it, but knew very much what he was talking about.

Not sure how to respond to that, he said slowly, "Well… as innocent as you _get_ , then."

"Fine. So he offed his helpless victims. Then what?"

"When he did that," Colin said, continuing to think out loud, "Kingman may not have even known what he was doing. The effect it would have. It was so evil, what he did- it left a mark behind in the house."

"Filled it with a lot of… energy. Evil energy, maybe." Roy said.

"And that's where all those stories about the house being haunted came from. The ghosts and everything. It came from that night, when all those helpless victims were killed in this house."

Roy looked at him. "Colin, you know I'm not into all that ghosts and ghouls stuff like you are. Or- were. But this is about what I was thinking. Really. It's almost exactly the same as my theory." He paused, looking at Colin again. "So, what we don't know yet… how'd it do what it did to us?"

"The blood ritual," Colin said suddenly. "Remember, you cut each of our hands, we put 'em together, swore to be blood brothers?"

"One of the finest moments of my life," Roy said, and Colin heard nothing but sincerity in his voice.

"Think about who we were then. Two boys who'd just done a primitive blood ritual, one both of us took completely seriously. We come to this house where this man killed his whole family, where all that energy's packed up in the walls. We were like a lightning rod to it, Roy."

Roy looked around, walking here and there. "That night, I felt… drawn to this house. To this room, Colin. Right here in this room, I felt so _alive_. It was like, right then, nothing in the _world_ could stop me. All I needed was you to get what I wanted."

"You acted pretty strange," Colin admitted. "Your movements were kinda jerky. I'm not sure how to put it, it was just weird."

"It felt weird," Roy said, nodding absentmindedly, looking around the room. "I've never felt like that before in my life."

"Do you think if I hadn't wanted to be like you, it wouldn't have happened?"

"Maybe." Roy didn't seem too happy to think about that possibility. "Except you did. I did. We both wanted the same thing, basically- for us to be brothers. Now we are." He looked at Colin intently. "I don't think we'll ever find some wise man or genie who'll tell us exactly what happened, Colin. But if Kingman offing his family put all this energy into this place, and us doing the blood brother ritual let that energy loose…" he trailed off, looking away, then suddenly swung back, riveting his gaze on Colin.

"Then I'm fucking _glad_ Kingman schwacked his whole fucking family, Colin. Glad. I would've killed 'em myself to get this."

"What, us being brothers and all?"

"Yes."

In spite of himself, Colin was surprised, and touched. "Why would I mean so much to you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"You were, you _are_ , Roy Borden. I was just some skinny nobody with thick glasses." Colin shrugged, feeling dejected and unable to help it. "Why would you even give a shit about a nobody like me?"

"What kind of way is that to talk about yourself?" Roy asked quietly, looking intently at Colin.

Colin shrugged again. "Only the truth."

"Bullshit."

Roy stepped towards Colin, picking his way around a pile of bricks, strewn out from where a section of wall had collapsed.

"Colin, you were _never_ nobody. Not even before. I asked you to be my blood brother, didn't I? Would I have offered that to just anyone?"

"I guess not," Colin said, willing to admit that at least.

"I had plenty of 'friends', guys on the team, buddies at school. But I didn't offer it to any of them. Not to anybody else. Just you."

"Yeah," Colin said, embarrassed at the way Roy was making such a big deal of him, when he, even now, didn't feel like a big deal at all.

"And do you think that when we were standing here, in this room, when I said what I wanted most was for us to be actual, genetic brothers, I wasn't telling you the truth?"

"You didn't sound like you were lying," Colin said truthfully. "You sounded like you meant it."

"Every word."

Roy took another step towards Colin, set a hand on each of his strong athlete's shoulders.

"You were never a nobody, Colin. Not ever. But you're a special kind of somebody now, and I'd rather die than live without him. That somebody's my brother." Roy smiled. "And even if you don't remember it yet, Colin, it's been fun knowing you all my life."

"Aw…" Colin managed to get out, then leaned forward and threw his arms around Roy, seizing him in a powerful bear-hug before he did something stupid and started crying. "Thanks, Roy," he said, his voice thick with tears.

"Mm," Roy said, sounding oddly terse himself. It was a long time before he could answer. "You're welcome."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

July 6th turned out to be yet another day where, after coldly giving her instructions to the boys for the day, Mrs. Borden left them to their own devices and didn't seem to really give a damn where they went. Or what they did. Just as long as the work got done.

Colin could never be all that sure where Mr. Borden was; he was always busy with something, at work or at home. At meals, he seemed to need a reminder to remember Colin and Roy were there. Colin already felt bitter over this treatment, but it felt old and familiar to him. He might not have felt much love from his parents, but he sure as hell was used to it.

Colin Jacobs had been as well. Same story, different details: a parent, or parents, too busy with their own lives to pay their kids much attention. They honestly had no idea what effect that could have, left unattended. Or, in Mrs. Borden's case, she probably didn't care.

Staring at the white tiled floor at breakfast that particular morning, though, Colin felt something odd going on in his mind. He'd been staring at plenty of floors lately, given how often Mrs. Borden wanted the house cleaned, and how damn hard he and Roy had to work to do it each time. But none of the other floors in this house, tiled or not, gave Colin the peculiar feeling he got this morning, looking at the white tiled floor of the kitchen. He'd felt it yesterday, too. Like… this floor was… _important_ somehow. It had a connection to _some_ thing, Colin just didn't know _what_.

And why on earth could Colin swear the color red had something to do with it? Brown, and red. And white. White, well, that was obvious. That was the floor. But what were the red and brown, then?

Colin was thinking about this, frowning in concentration as he ate the last of his cereal. He'd just finished the last bite of it when, at that very second- just as he sensed he was getting close to remembering something- Roy came over. "Hey, Colin! I think it's my turn to pick out what we do today once the chores are done! How about that?"

"I'm just dying to find out what Roy's got planned for us," Colin said, his voice deadpan.

Roy gave him a sarcastic look. "Yeah, and it shows."

"Well, you get upstairs and get our room inspection ready, okay? I'll get things straight down here. I'll be up there in a couple minutes."

Colin nodded, getting up, and as he left the kitchen Roy called after him, "Colin, start with checking the closet."

 **XX**

Colin sighed wearily as he got on hands and knees all over the room, broom and dustpan in hand, searching for some of the tiniest dust bunnies and pieces of dirt the eye could detect. Roy assured him that Mrs. Borden was obsessive about these things, and was incredibly good at finding fault in a supposedly-clean room. Especially the boys' room, which Colin could recall bitterly had been devoid of any real signs a pair of young athletes lived there for, well, his and Roy's whole life.

He actually wound up saving the closet for last. In there, Colin had hidden away his glasses, kept in the black case he'd had with him on that night a few days ago. Together with a few articles of clothing and a now too-small pair of shoes, they were the only physical proof his old life had ever existed. Colin had put these things away the other night, not saying anything about it to Roy, who didn't seem all that interested anyway. He didn't seem much interested in anything concerning his old life, having more than once stated "there was nothing before."

Colin was curious as to just why he was so _firm_ on that. But out of respect for Roy, and especially out of not wanting to mess up the closeness he'd felt between them yesterday, Colin decided he wouldn't be in a big hurry to ask.

Searching among the clothes hung on the coat-hangers in the closet, Colin recalled yet another of the things he, prior to now, didn't know that he knew. But once recalled, it was as if the memory had always been there. It was strange, remembering things he'd already known. This time, Colin remembered how the left side of the closet had always held Roy's things; the right side was Colin's. On one side, he saw a blue and white jacket, marked with the name and insignia of an athlete at Santa Leona Junior High. There was the big "SL" on the left, a smaller "JHS" on the right, sewn on right along with the patches indicating participation in football, wrestling, and track.

Colin smiled, looking at the white leather arms of the jacket, the sturdy, no doubt expensive material used for the blue velvet-like fabric. Junior high schools didn't award varsity letters, but Colin knew Roy would be getting one in high school. Knowing him, it might happen as soon as 10th grade- if not 9th.

But as he went through the clothes on his side of the closet, confirming that his old Colin Jacobs clothes were still hanging there, tucked away in the back, Colin realized he hadn't really looked at the jackets he owned, or even the one he'd hidden his old clothes behind. It was a blue and white jacket, and as Colin took it off the rack, he found it marked with all the same things as Roy's. On the inside of the collar, elegant script proclaimed the owner's name: Colin Borden.

Jock. Sportsman. Athlete. Weight-lifter, wrestler, football player, track runner before that got boring. Junior high athlete with high school varsity not far away. That was him, Colin Borden.

Colin took the blue and white jacket off the coat hanger and put it on. It fit easily around his heavily-muscled shoulders, having been tailored just to his measurements. Colin smiled; this jacket was beautiful. He knew it as well as he knew any friend. He'd paid for the patches sewn on to it, paid for the jacket itself, with more than just scrounged-up pocket money (not like Mom or Dad were gonna help pay for that). Colin had paid in blood, sweat and tears, and given those things right alongside Roy. And for Roy. Just as Roy had given those things for him.

"You love that goddamn jacket, you know. Remember that?"

Roy's voice, coming from the doorway.

Colin smiled, knowing he had to look goofy doing it- but not caring. Roy didn't seem to mind most anything he did. He seemed happy just to have Colin around, and knowing he was so welcome into super-cool Roy Borden's life meant a great deal.

So he answered, "Yeah. I do."

"Okay, so how about this, Colin the Jock," Roy said, smiling as he came into the room. "I don't know if I feel like having to wax this floor today, but one of us is gonna have to."

"So?"

"So," Roy said, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, "Put that jacket away, even though you love it. Because we're about to see who can do a hundred pushups the fastest."

Colin hung the jacket back up, stripped to his waist and hit the floor with startling speed, even for himself. He didn't let his surprise show, but simply assumed the Army-standard pushup position, the front lean-and-rest, and started knocking them out. Down, up, down, up, his powerful chest and arm muscles doing the work with practically no effort at all. He was at 10 before Roy even recovered from his surprise and hit the floor too.

"Hey," Roy said indignantly as he started, "I didn't say we'd started!"

"Didn't stay we hadn't," Colin replied smartly. "Come on, keep up! Keep up, Grandma! Looking forward to buffing this floor?"

"He's remembering his mouth, too," Roy said ruefully to himself.

The boys- brothers- worked furiously to get to that magic number first. Despite Colin's good head start, Roy raced through to 30 and was neck-in-neck with Colin by 45. Huffing as the exertion made them sweat just a little, Colin and Roy did pushup after pushup, the number climbing rapidly higher.

Colin was startled to find he wasn't just physically able to do this, performing the pushups faster and more numerously than he'd ever have been capable of in his old life. He found he loved doing it! It was fun to do twenty pushups, enjoyable to do thirty, an act of joy to do fifty. And to challenge, or be challenged, to do 100- that was pleasure defined. And nothing could make it more fun than if Roy was the one involved in the challenge. Colin was blown away by the idea of being able to seriously compete with Roy at all, as opposed to being pitifully skinny and slow next to a powerful, swift icon of teenage athletics. Even more by the resurgent memories, the recollection that he had been delighting in physical competitions of a dozen kinds with Roy since either one of them had known what sports were.

"This isn't work," Colin huffed as he reached 70, "This is fun!"

"Took you this long to remember that?" Roy laughed, shaking his head.

Colin laughed, too- he'd never imagined physical exercise could be such a blast. Now that he knew, he only wanted to experience more of it.

Grunting and puffing, Colin and Roy finished incredibly close to each other, each speeding up as they realized they were close to the end. Arguing over who had won, the boys immediately decided to compete some more with another fifty. Then, still not satisfied, yet another fifty.

Not even close to happy after that, still with nothing but a lot of ties, Colin and Roy began to argue. Colin surprised Roy by tackling him with a move he abruptly realized he had borrowed from football. From there, it turned into a wrestling match, where both boys fought with moves and techniques Colin quickly realized they both knew.

It was a hard-fought battle, and yet the two of them were laughing just about the whole time. When Roy finally forced Colin to "tap out", the two of them were breathing hard, a coat of sweat making their hard, chiseled upper bodies shine in the sunlight pouring into the room.

"That was fun," Roy nodded, grinning at Colin as they both lay there beside each other in their bedroom. "We've been doing that for years. Remember that?"

"Yeah," Colin nodded, grinning himself. "We gotta do it some more."

"Oh, we will, don't worry. This kinda stuff's a popper, Colin. A real terrific popper."

Nodding again, Colin sighed. "The only thing that could make her better is if we were at Sarah Callahan's place next door."

He sat up, looking at Roy. "Who is that?"

Roy shrugged. "Dunno, you tell me."

"You know who that is."

"So what if I do?"

"Well, why would I say that?"

"Because she's a terrific piece of ass, that's why."

"So tell me about her."

Roy grinned, getting up and motioning Colin to the window overlooking the backyard of the house next door.

"She always goes sunbathing on days like this, in her backyard, while Junior's taking his morning nap in the house or something. And the best times, she does it naked."

Colin looked out over the fence, searching for the forbidden fruit- though carefully keeping a minimum of himself in the window, conscious of being caught.

"Relax," Roy said, "We've been enjoying the view for two summers now. She's never seen us once. She never even looks this way." He curled one bicep, flexing it impressively, and smirked. "She'd probably look this way all the time if she really knew what was next door."

Looking out the window, Colin caught sight of her. Twenty-five and good-looking enough to be a model, Sarah Callahan was lying on her white sun chair, stretched out on her back, eyes closed. Colin handed him the binoculars just as he started to long for a closer look.

 **XX**

For some time they passed the binoculars back and forth, making remarks and nodding approvingly. Colin couldn't seem to control his mouth; he made remarks he'd always heard the athletes saying in the locker room at school, always knew the 'cool', athletic guys said, but always was embarrassed to say himself. He just said them like it was natural, instinct, to do so.

"Man," Roy said in wonder, "Can you believe she's a breeder?"

"What?"

"She got preggers."

"She's had a kid?" Colin asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, that five-year-old brat of hers, remember? Lucky husband of hers fucked her and got her pregnant. Nine months later, she squeezes him out. And now…" Roy gave an exaggerated sigh. "I can't believe it. I bet her pussy's still as tight as a cat's ass."

Gazing at Sarah Callahan through the binoculars, Colin was momentarily entranced. Her smooth, taut belly, showing no signs at all it had once swollen to accommodate a growing child. Her round, well-proportioned breasts, soft and gentle; her lean, slender thighs and legs. But best of all, that slit between her legs, the thing every boy Colin's age dreamed about sticking his favorite toy into. Oh, he wanted her.

 _Man, I don't care if she's had one kid or three_ , Colin heard a lustful voice in his mind say. _I'll rape her anyway. Rape her and put a kid of my own inside her. I like to party_. _Getting laid, man. That'd be a popper. A real terrific popper. I'd like to-_

Colin snapped out of it- whatever "it" was- in time to say, "Roy, you probably _would_ know what a cat's ass feels like around your dick, wouldn't you?"

Roy thumped him hard on the shoulder, a blow that would have had Colin Jacobs wincing with pain but just made Colin Borden blink. "Look, smartass, I wasn't being literal!"

"I _hope_ not. Next cat we kill, Roy, I'm worried I'll have to keep you away from its butt!"

Colin suddenly stopped, putting down the binoculars. He didn't say anything for a minute or two, then looked at Roy, who was watching him. 'Carefully' was the best word; Roy seemed to be waiting to see what would happen now. But he didn't, Colin noticed, seem all that surprised.

Nowhere as surprised as most people would've been.

"Roy," Colin said slowly, "I-I was just thinking about raping Sarah Callahan. I mean, I felt good. Like… I _wanted_ to do it. It just popped into my head, I swear. And now-" he stopped, not sure how to even go on. "Roy… did we kill a cat?"

Roy looked at him for almost a minute before answering.

"Colin, I want to ask you something first."

As nervous and uncomfortable as he felt, Colin nodded, taking a breath and exhaling. "All right."

"There are things you're gonna remember… that are gonna be scary to you at first. You won't understand them. But I swear, if you just give it time… let me… ease you into it… it'll all make sense. I swear it will." He looked away for a moment, took in a breath, sighed, then resumed looking Colin in the eyes. For a few, fleeting moments, Roy looked terribly nervous. But the look in his eyes calmed, and he went on.

"So, whenever… something like this comes along, just tell me about it, and- I'll help. I'll give you the short answer at first, then the full answer later on. But you need to trust me on this. Everything will make sense if you just trust me and give things time. Question is, do you trust me?"

Colin looked at Roy, who looked back with nothing but caring, nothing but sincerity. Roy, who was glad Kingman had gone and murdered his whole family because it may well have made it possible for two good friends to become twin brothers.

Looking at the boy whose face he now shared, Colin couldn't help but smile. "That's like asking me if the sky's blue."

When Roy gave him an exasperated look- though he looked amused at the same time, and perhaps relieved as well- Colin nodded. "Yes, Roy. I trust you."

Now Roy definitely looked relieved. "Thank you."

"So, short answer now," Colin reminded him. "Did we kill a cat?" He felt a cold sense of revulsion at the idea, a greasy, swinging-hammock feeling in his stomach that he didn't like at all. But a small, tiny kernel of something else was in there too. The kernel held glee, delight. Somehow it was connected to this.

Roy answered very simply, his eyes never leaving Colin's: "Yes."

"Why?" Colin blurted, a dozen other things tumbling out all at once. "Why would I wanna _do_ that, Roy? Why would you? When the hell did-did I even do it? _Why_?!"

"My twin brother's always had a potty mouth," Roy murmured, a slight smile on his face. "But then, so have I."

"Roy-" Colin began impatiently, but Roy held up a hand.

"Short answer first, then the long answer. You have to trust me on this, Colin. I can't help you get back to who you are any other way."

Colin got up and paced the room restlessly. His conscience was in rebellion, his moral compass gone haywire. This- this wasn't good.

"Colin, don't take it so hard," Roy urged, a slight strain entering his voice- like he was getting worried about something.

"I'm okay," Colin said tersely. He sucked in air, blew it out, ran his hands through his hair in a gesture he commonly used when he was stressed. Well, Colin Borden did. It came back to him immediately, and Colin repeated the act. It felt like an old friend.

 _Oh, my God_ , Colin- mostly Jacobs-Colin- said in his mind, on the verge of wanting to scream in panic. _I killed something. A cat. My God, it was probably someone's_ pet _. Why did I do it? Why would I? Jesus, what the hell's_ wrong _with me?_

"Nothing, Colin, _nothing_ is wrong with you," Roy said emphatically. Colin started; he hadn't realized he'd spoken that last sentence aloud.

"Did-did we do it together?" Colin asked, looking at Roy. "Just this, and one more for now. Okay?"

"Yes, we did," Roy said. "You're gonna remember a lot of things we've done together. We've hated to be separated since the day we were born."

"I-I remember that," Colin said slowly.

He could remember being as young as three or four, at someplace- a daycare center, an orphanage- and someone had tried to take Roy away. Colin could not remember why, just that a Big Person had tried it. Roy hadn't liked it, but Colin had liked it even less. He had grabbed onto Roy's middle as the Big Person picked him up, hugging onto his brother's chest and refusing to let go. This, and other incidents, had led to this and all the other Big People simply taking the two of them everywhere either of them needed to go. It upset them so much when they were taken apart, Colin remembered, that a Big Person had said, "Keep 'em together. Anything else just isn't worth the trouble."

These memories brought a smile to Colin's face; he knew because Roy saw it and smiled too, relaxing some. "You do remember."

"Okay." Colin sighed. "Second question. Did we do this one time, or what?"

Roy hesitated, looking unsure how to go on. "Colin… I… can it wait?"

"I'd rather know, Roy. Please." Colin said it gently, not demanding or forcing anything. He liked Roy too much, still worshipped him despite now being so much more on his level with things. And more than that, Colin was remembering something else, something warm and fuzzy and immensely powerful: how much he loved Roy, his brother.

Roy sighed, staring at the floor for a few moments. Then he looked up at Colin. "We've… tortured and killed animals together, Colin. Always together. The cat wasn't the first." He held up his hands as Colin immediately started to say something, horror surging into him once again. "Colin, please. If I tell you everything now, you'll just about go insane. I swear, you won't know how to handle it. You said you trust me, so do it now. Trust me, and let me help you ease you back to who you are. You'll be fine if you let me do that, Colin. I _promise_."

Colin paced some more, running his hands through his hair.

"For _Chrissakes_ ," Colin said in a nervous, agitated voice, " _stop it_ , Colin. Stop freakin' out over nothin' before you make lemonade in your _pants_!"

"This is _insane_! I-no way! No _way_ can I do this!"

" _Shut up_!" Colin shouted, anger surging into him at what a dork he was half-being.

Roy was on his feet at the instant Colin took a swing at himself; his wrist met Roy's palm with a loud smack. Colin's right arm was hard as iron, humming with tension as he strained to get past Roy's equally-powerful grip.

For a few moments they struggled silently, one against the other, Roy looking deadly serious as he fought to keep his brother from punching himself in the face.

"Colin," Roy said with forced calm, "listen to me. Your name is _Colin Borden_. You have _never_ been _anyone else_. You've been my twin brother all our lives. We're turning fifteen this October. We're starting high school in about a month. And if you just calm down, we'll get our chores done in an hour and be outta this fuckin' place all the rest of today."

Colin suddenly let go, exhaling loudly and dropping his arm. He looked at Roy in confusion. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know," Roy said, looking scared and uncertain- which only spooked Colin more, since neither of those words fit well with Colin's hero-worship image of fearless Roy. "You started arguing with yourself. Like you were two people."

"I am- _was_ \- two people," Colin said.

"No," Roy said firmly, setting his hands on Colin's bare shoulders. "You're not. You never were. And that's the most important thing you have _got_ to remember here, Colin. You keep holding onto who you were before and it's gonna wind up destroying who you are now. You'll keep getting migraines, you'll argue with yourself more, and sometime at school you're gonna just haul off and punch yourself in the face. Knock yourself the fuck out. The two of us won't get pussy by Halloween like that."

"Pussy by Halloween?" Colin repeated in disbelief, unsure if he'd even heard it right.

Warming to the subject, Roy grinned and nodded. "It's been the plan all summer. I think we can do it. But, hell, we gotta get to third base first."

"Okay," Colin sighed. "Call me stupid, but what's third base?"

Roy shook his head, reaching up and ruffling Colin's hair. "I could never call you stupid."

"So tell me, then," Colin said, pleased at the show of affection. He even reached over and ruffled Roy's hair back, which his brother seemed to like.

"Well, first is kissing," Roy explained. "Second is touching. Like, she puts her hand on your ass or your crotch, you set your hand on her same kinda way. Third is her giving you a hand job- jerking you off- or you fingering her, or taking her bra off and grabbing her tits. Fourth is home run. Sex. Getting laid."

"Sweet," Colin grinned, and Roy grinned back.

"I mean, _look_ at us, Colin. It isn't if, I promise you. It's when."

Forgetting the cat- and the other incidents- completely, Colin grinned even wider. "I like that."

"Of course you do," Roy nodded, smiling affectionately. "Sex is a real popper. Now come on. Let's get those chores done and get outta here."

"Oh, _fuck_ yes," Colin said enthusiastically, starting for the door, then did a double take and looked back at Roy, who was starting to laugh.

"Did I really just _say_ that?"

"Yeah," Roy said, "Yeah, you did." He put a hand over his mouth, giggling like a little kid.

Colin got a little thrill from cursing so casually, having been so used to considering it a forbidden fruit. But Colin Borden was used to it; another part of how cool he was. Just like Roy. Colin silently vowed to not have any more arguments with himself. He'd figure things out however he needed to, but he didn't want to alarm Roy. _Really_ , Colin thought, _I'll do fine as long as I don't try to punch myself in the face again_.

It was a pretty unusual thought to have, but then Colin was living a pretty unusual life. It was incredible, really, how easy it was becoming to believe and accept that this had really happened. He had read about the supernatural in books for years; now he was living it.

Tempted to taste the forbidden fruit of profanity again, Colin gave a shrug of his heavy shoulders. "Fuck it. Who fucking cares if I said that, anyway?"

"There you go, Colin," Roy said, clearly pleased. "You're a step closer to yourself already."

 **XX**

Steven Rose's house was their first destination as they set out from the house. Colin went three blocks before even realizing he'd forgotten to put a shirt on, but needed less than half a block to realize he didn't care. Near-white khaki shorts would do fine. Colin smiled, the wind blowing his shiny blond hair around as he pedaled. He wasn't just a jock now; he was damn near model material.

Never could he have felt so good about his appearance in his old life. Not if he'd lived it for another thirty years. His physical improvements, his good looks and this confidence that seemed to just come out of nowhere- those were things that Colin was proud to embrace about his new life. That was where he completely understood Roy when he said that "There was nothing before."

Colin had been a scrawny little bookworm before. He couldn't bench-press forty pounds, let alone the two hundred Roy said the both of them had benched many times before in the past year at school. Colin Jacobs' limbs had been like sticks; Colin Borden's were like tree trunks, thick and powerful. Heavy, but granting immense power, speed and endurance.

Roy had been Colin's first- and only- real friend in his old life. It was rapidly coming to him that Colin Borden had several more- many more- friends in this one. And girls… Colin Borden was one eligible fourteen-year-old bachelor, just like Roy. Young female heads turned wherever he went.

Who would have looked twice at Colin Jacobs?

It crushed Colin to admit it, even to himself, but the answer was nobody. Colin was glad- delighted- to forget that had ever existed. That particular aspect of his life had done nothing but improve since the change. Surely whatever else lay in store, whatever other things he hadn't remembered yet, couldn't be that bad. Colin was so delighted at so many aspects of who he was now- one glance at himself in a mirror, one instance of a girl's head turning as he walked by, and Colin knew he was getting to like who he was now very much.

He was coming to feel that he'd rather take this, the life of Colin Borden, for what it was- warts and all- rather than ever go back. Even if he could've.

"You're thinking about something," Roy observed, riding alongside him. "Don't even say you're not. So what is it?"

Roy wasn't really pressing, just idly curious. Besides, out here, free of that oppressive house on a hot sunny day, Colin was feeling pretty indulgent.

"Just what a nice life I've got," he said.

Roy looked immensely pleased to hear that; for a moment he seemed to glow almost as bright as his hair. "I like it too," he said.

 **XX**

Steven Rose bounded downstairs and opened the door soon after Colin rang the doorbell. He was wearing a pair of blue gym shorts from school and a dark green polo; Steven had a thing for polos. And to his credit, he looked pretty good in them.

"Hey! What's up, guys?" Steve looked genuinely pleased to see them. His smile faltered a little when he looked at Roy. "I'm, um, I'm sorry about… the other day…" Steven said uncertainly. "You know. Walking in your room and everything."

"It's okay," Roy said, smiling. "Really. No hard feelings."

The lean redhead brightened up immediately. "Okay! So, now what?"

Colin laughed. "Gets right to the point, doesn't he?"

"Sure does," Roy agreed.

Steven turned pink, looking away shyly but clearly pleased. Colin noticed suddenly how obvious it was, how it was written all over his face that Steven Rose about worshipped the Borden brothers.

He knew the look, the little mannerisms, the kind of behavior. He'd been doing it all himself not too long ago, even if Steven- like everyone except Colin and Roy- had no idea that world had ever existed.

Colin spoke up then; an idea had occurred to him, a way of passing the time over here that they hadn't tried last time. But he liked it.

"Steven," he began, "do you still have that basketball?"

 **XX**

The Rose house had a basketball hoop installed at the far end of the driveway, a feature that came with the house and Colin and Roy, for one, had been glad to take advantage of over the years. The twins managed to drag Steven into it more often than not, and Philip would often join in if he was around, despite the both of them being hopelessly outmatched. It was for the same reason they so gamely went surfing on the 4th: they were simply tougher than they looked.

But on a clear sunny day in July, with the temperature climbing to almost 100 degrees, even Roy and Colin built up a pretty substantial sweat before long. Steven Rose was soaked in it.

"Come on, come on- outta the way! Here I come!" Steve panted, racing forward as he clumsily dribbled the ball. He had finally given into Colin's coaxing and gone shirtless; the help this gave to cooling him off probably had a lot to do with why he was still on his feet.

"Ooh, I'm shakin', I'm shakin'!" Colin called out, falling back. Once Steve came within the last few feet of the basket, Colin suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was moving backwards, and doing so pretty quickly, without so much as a backwards glance. The moment he attempted one, Colin tripped and stumbled. Steven Rose, sweat glistening on his pale torso and raining off his slack, weary face, suddenly brightened and sped toward the net.

Recovering quickly, his face heated with embarrassment, Colin sprinted in to stop him. He moved with unbelievable speed; suddenly Steve was barely moving at all, so great was the difference. But Colin came flying in faster than he'd anticipated, and one of his broad shoulders slammed into Steve's chest as they intersected.

The other boy abruptly changed directions, flung outward and off the edge of the blacktop. He uttered a noise like "Whu!" and let go of the ball. Steve hit the grass hard, landing on his back, and he lay there in a daze as Colin quickly approached him.

"Oh, my God," Colin said in a low, frightened voice. He raised it a second later, not even sure if his friend could hear him: "Steve. Steve!"

Helped by Colin to a sitting position, Steve immediately said, "I'm all right! I'm all right!"

There was a pause; he looked at Colin uncertainly. "Am I all right?"

Colin looked at Steve, who looked tired and a little more battered now, but otherwise no worse for the wear. A quick, expert assessment done by Colin Borden, career football player and lifelong athlete, said that Steve was almost definitely fine. There were no signs of a concussion, no broken or fractured bones. Steven Rose was so lightweight Colin had knocked him aside the way an M60 Patton would do to a Chevette, but nevertheless, he was tougher than he looked.

So Colin relaxed, allowed his relief to show, smiling and nodding. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Steve squinted and gave Colin a creeped-out look. "Well, quit lookin' at me like that!"

He abruptly jumped up, scrambled for the ball, and although Colin recovered in time to block him, Steven's shot went through the net.

Even Roy, who had been watching this game, thought it was pretty cleverly done. He'd smiled, giving Steven a round of applause. Colin joined in, and the happy look on the face of Steven Rose, a boy as buff and tan as Colin Jacobs had been, instantly quelled the abrupt surge of anger Colin instinctively felt at defeat. Sometimes, it was okay to lose, especially to a friend who tried as hard at something as Steven Rose had just done.

 **XX**

They sat on the back porch after that, listening to a few cicadas buzzing in the trees. Steven gulped down so many glasses of water that Colin finally had to stop him, citing the risks of drinking too much water, too fast.

So Steven finally just sighed and sat back on his deck chair, still dressed just in his shoes and gym shorts. Roy had gone inside to be the first one to shower off, and to piss, so they were alone for now.

Colin was pleased with and proud of Roy for doing so well at embracing the one thing that seemed to be very different from his old life- being best friends with Steven and Philip. Colin had a hunch, even if he had no evidence to back it up, that there was something more to his previous memories of them. He hadn't been happy when they'd shown up the first time, and in fact had seemed pretty angry for a minute. What would he have so disliked them for? These two were great guys. Colin was sure- he just knew- that it had to be something. Something Roy was, for now at least, choosing not to talk about.

Even now, after warming up to them considerably, Roy seemed oddly distant to them at times. There would be moments when he wouldn't laugh at a joke Steven or Philip made, or would seem disinterested in something they wanted to talk about. Today, Colin had seen him gazing at Steven at times when the redhead was looking elsewhere, with an oddly focused look. It was as if he was doing some pretty serious thinking about… something. Colin intended to ask him about it sometime, but wasn't going to press Roy about it just yet- not after all the help he'd been lately, as Colin fought to begin living a life everyone around them believed he'd been living for fourteen years.

Steven stretched out and sighed, smiling at Colin.

"Thanks for letting me win, man."

"Oh, you know," Colin said, sighing and stretching casually, lacing his hands above his head. "It was the least I could do."

"Yeah, after almost killing there, Mr. Freight Train," Steven said, sniggering. He shook his head. "Man. I knew you were strong, but dude, your shoulder felt like it was made of rock or something.

Colin grinned, flattered and pleased. He still couldn't believe something this wonderful- this gift of incredible physical fitness, a physique that drew looks everywhere he went- had happened to him. This part of his new life he loved without hesitation.

But he sobered up quickly, adding, "I'm sorry I did that."

"It's okay, man," Steven said, becoming more serious too.

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as the sun started to glow orange, beginning to disappear from view.

"I'm really glad I'm friends with you guys," Steven said suddenly. "My life at school would be a living hell if I wasn't."

"Don't say that," Colin said, "I'm sure that's not true."

"Colin," Steven said slowly, "I don't- well, you've always been cool. You've always been strong, you've got tons of friends. I'm the opposite. The only reason guys generally leave me alone is because they know I'm friends with you."

"Steven, I don't actually have that many friends."

"What?" Steven sat up, looking at Colin in disbelief. "You have more friends than I can count! How can you say-"

"They're just acquaintances, Steven," Colin said calmly. "I mean, I play sports with 'em, work out, do stuff like that. But they're pretty boring to talk to, never wanna talk about anything deep or serious. You and Philip are way smarter than that. You two are some of the only real friends me and Roy have."

Steven abruptly blushed as crimson as his hair, buried his face in his hands, and said in a melodramatic voice, "Aw, lookit what you gone and made me do."

Colin laughed; he found that easy to do around Steven. He was an easy boy to like, and Colin had a hard time imagining him as having a hard time making friends. But maybe he opened up more, was more relaxed, mostly when he was with Colin and Roy.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Colin. He wanted to talk about it before Roy got back- not because he didn't trust Roy, but because Colin sensed Steven was enjoying the 'moment', having some one-on-one time with somebody he clearly looked up to.

"Steven," Colin said.

"That's what everybody keeps calling me," Steven replied.

"You ever thought about coming to work out with Roy and me?"

Steven turned to look at Colin, disbelief on his face. "Me? Colin, you cannot be serious, man. I can't bench ten pounds."

"That's why I'd like to see you start," Colin replied simply.

"Colin," Steven began uneasily, "I don't know how to tell you this, man. I'll never be what you are, not ever. I've got no chance. I'd humiliate myself even trying."

Steven's reaction, just the look on his face, told Colin all he needed to know. He, like Colin Jacobs had once done, was equating physical exercise- particularly weight rooms and PE class- with mockery and embarrassment. It was not his thing and never had been. He regarded all of it as foreign soil, a territory where he was neither at ease nor welcome. And he also regarded the challenge of becoming physically fit as hopeless, not worth so much as a single attempt.

Colin, relying on memories of his old self, remembered those feelings well. That was how it had been for him then. As in awe of Roy as he'd been, Colin hadn't seen the things he was- confident, cool, hotter than hell in his underwear- as things he could become. They were unattainable, forever out of reach, and he would have to be content with merely being in Roy's company, just being friends with someone who was in better physical shape than he'd ever be.

The idea that had occurred to Colin was not to try to make Steven, or Philip, as strong and fast as him. It had just been to offer to help them, teach them some things so they could buff up a little. They'd done just fine in their own right, surfing alongside Colin and Roy on the 4th. They'd even hung out with a girl each that night. And if they could do that much as they were now, when a confident moment came along, what they could do given a few workouts a week, a little running now and then, was tempting to imagine.

But Steven was not just going to go for it instantly; nor would Philip. And ultimately, he was just more interested in other things. A fact that Colin could not only appreciate, but which had a lot to do with how he- and Roy- had become friends with him and Philip in the first place.

Even so, Colin just couldn't give up. It didn't suit these gut feelings he was getting- this growing sense of who he was now. Colin Borden intended to win at everything he tried, and that included nudging friends towards things that would ultimately do them good.

"Nobody's asking you to try out for football this fall," Colin said finally. "You don't need to bother trying to be me."

"If I did," Steven said with a wry smile, "you and Roy would just hit the gym and get even stronger."

"We're going to do that anyway," Colin said, with a matter-of-fact confidence that surprised him. "But I'm not talking about that, Steven. What I'm talking about is you just need to have more respect for your body, man. You gotta be able to give back everything life throws at you. You gotta be ready." He leaned over, nudging Steve with an elbow, winking and grinning. "Plus, muscles help get you pussy."

"You stud," Steven said in a sarcastically hushed tone. "You born fighter."

But even though Steven was presenting the praise as a joke, it was pretty clear he meant it.

Colin, who could hardly believe he'd said the things he'd just said, covered his disbelief by smiling. Which was easy to do, since he was very, very pleased to be called the things Roy was. He kept forgetting that to people in this world, he and Roy were one and the same, two copies of the same incredible person.

"You know," Colin added, "you don't even have to go to the weight room at school, or anything like that. Me and Roy could just come over and we could go for a run sometime." He paused, then added, "I'm not trying to make you feel like you gotta be an athlete now. I just don't think I'd be a very good friend if I didn't help you take care of your body."

"You're a good friend, Colin," Steven said. "And, I appreciate you saying all this."

"How about you think about it? Don't answer me now, just think about it."

Steven nodded, smiling a little. "Okay. I'll think about it."

"Think about what?"

Roy had just come out the screen door of the back porch, a fourteen-year-old model ready for a photo shoot. Really, he looked like that all the time, but the look was particularly enhanced after a shower. Right now, he was looking between Colin and Steven, his eyes looking curiously at Colin but a little suspiciously at the redhead. No, he definitely wasn't completely okay with Steven Rose yet.

Colin decided to keep holding closely to his promise to trust Roy. He looked up at his brother, saying casually, "I was just asking if Steven wanted to work out with us sometime."

"He'd die, Colin," Roy said. "He'd have a goddamn heart attack at fourteen."

"No, I meant we start him off with the simple shit. Just the basics until he's conditioned a little and can do some more."

Roy looked at Steven for a few moments. He seemed to be debating the issue, trying to figure out whether he wanted to do this or not. It worried Colin to see Roy was at least thinking of saying no.

It was Steven who broke the tension. Smiling warmly, putting a flirtatious tone in his voice, he asked, "You keep staring. See anything you like?"

Unable to help himself, Colin cracked up laughing. Steven grinned impishly while Roy spluttered indignantly, then rushed over and grabbed the redhead, putting him in a headlock.

"Should I schwack nisun, Colin?" he asked playfully, as Steven struggled and beat effortlessly at his iron-strong grip, pawed at the bands of steel that made up the muscle in his arms.

"I think he's about pinit, Roy," Colin replied, falling readily into this exchange of nonsense-speak. But it couldn't be all nonsense, because his mind somehow knew the words. They were… familiar.

"Pinit's right," Roy said, nodding, "but if I do this-" he mimed a simple twisting gesture, which with his strength would break Steven's neck- "he's illit, Colin."

"Can you stop speaking gibberish and lemme go?" Steve asked, his discomfort clear on his face.

"I don't know if I want to," Roy said smugly.

"Zop, Roy, it's noko," Colin said, suddenly a little impatient. "Steve's like-like, he's okay. Let him go."

Roy shrugged. "Just having a little fun, Colin." He stood up and released Steven.

"Gosh, Roy," Steven said, "staring at me, holding me close- were you gonna take me to dinner first, or do you wanna just go up to my room?"

Each of the three boys moved simultaneously. Colin sprang up from his chair, Steven jumped out of his, laughing maniacally as he tore down the steps and across the back yard. Roy narrowly missed getting him in a headlock again, and was only stopped from pursuing Steven by Colin, who had moved quickly behind him and grabbed him in a firm embrace.

"I'm alive!" Steven exclaimed from the other end of the yard, jumping up and down.

"Hey, Colin?" Roy said, his voice low.

"Yes, Roy?" Colin asked quietly.

"Only you could have stopped me like that. None of the guys on the team, not Steve's old man, nobody. Just you."

"Well, lucky I was here, then, right?"

"Lucky for him."

Then, Steve's brassy shout from across the yard reached their ears: "You guys normally hug like that with your shirts off, or what?"

This time Colin and Roy took off after Steven together. They caught him in a footrace that lasted only seconds. His punishment was to be used as a weight for almost half an hour as Colin and Roy took turns lying on their backs on the grass, doing 120-pound bench-presses with a bar called Steven Rose.

 **XX**

On the way home after dark, Colin and Roy stopped at a service station, lit by both its own lights over the pumps, and the colorful glow of the drink vending machine. Colin dug out some change from his pocket and bought each of them a grape soda. Holding them up, Colin and Roy shared a smile. They each remembered the last time they had gotten a grape soda.

They were silent for a minute or two, having their drinks.

"Roy," Colin said, "what was all that nonsense we started talking when you grabbed Steve? It was just gibberish."

"No gibberish, Colin," Roy said. "We just have words for things sometimes. We're twins, and twins often form close relationships and use words that only they understand."

"I understood them," Colin said after drinking some more of his soda. "I don't have any idea what the words meant, but I knew them."

Roy smiled and tapped Colin's forehead. "That's because your brain knows things you don't. Not right now, anyway. Everything about your life now- everything- is inside your head. All you have to do is remember it."

"So what did all those words mean?"

"They were twinspeak. Crytophasia."

"Oh, is that what they call it?" Colin asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I always wondered. And while I'm at it, Roy, I got this thing between my legs, it's about two feet long when it gets hard. What's that? Why are girls interested in it?"

Roy whacked him hard on the shoulder. The blow would have left an unpleasant bruise on Colin Jacobs' shoulder, but the thick, powerful muscle on Colin Borden's just shrugged it off like it was nothing.

"Fuckin' smartass," Roy said, but he was smiling. "I was hoping that would've gone away, but it looks like you're keeping it."

"Of course," Colin said, smiling back.

Putting on a patronizing voice, Roy continued, "Well, Colin, that thing between your legs is called a cock. Girls are interested because you can bang them with it, and it feels pretty goddamn good. But last I checked you were measuring more like _two_ inches down there, old buddy."

"And how would you know?" Colin grinned. "Been sneaking looks at me in the showers?" He reached for the waistline of his shorts. "I mean, I can take it out now, if you want-"

"No, thanks," Roy said immediately, laughing. "I don't need to see yours to know mine's bigger."

"Liar!" Colin said, and sprang at Roy. His brother leaned back and kicked Colin in the stomach, but Colin instinctively tightened his abdominal muscles and took the blow without losing his breath. He rolled to the side, lunged forward again, and the two boys grappled fiercely in the empty lot of the gas station. Colin won this particular wrestling match, and so Roy had to buy the next round of grape sodas.

"Here you go, champ," Roy said, handing him the can. "Just remember I'm winning the next one."

"You hope you do," Colin corrected him.

They fell silent for a while, finishing their old drinks and cracking open the new ones with a hiss.

"It's been great the last couple of days, Colin," Roy said. "I mean it. You're so much fun to be with, and it's only getting better. It's gonna be a real popper once school starts. A real terrific popper."

"Thanks," Colin said, smiling. He hesitated, then added, "Roy, it may be a little early to say this, but… it's fun being brothers with you."

"Getting to like who you are now? Glad we got our wish?" Roy asked, looking back at him.

"No regrets so far," Colin said honestly, and Roy smiled at him.

"I wouldn't trade this for anything. And Colin, just stick with me, no matter what, okay? We'll have more fun than you'd ever believe if you just do that."

"Done, blood brother," Colin said, holding out his hand.

Roy took his hand and shook it vigorously. Colin had never seen him look so happy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

For the next few days, Colin and Roy fell into what was, for Colin, already becoming a routine. They'd get up, eat breakfast, slave away all over the house, inside and/or outside depending on what the orders were, then the minute the list was done they were gone. They spent long hours at the beach or the marina, at Steven's place or at Philip's, frequently finding things to do with all four of them together.

Mrs. Borden's cold manner never varied. She set a long list of tasks for the boys to do every day, and didn't hesitate to make them do something again if it wasn't done perfectly enough the first time. She never asked how their days were going, or what they did with their friends, or how they were feeling about starting high school in August. She just gave them orders and then went back to her own concerns. Her threat to stop Colin from going out for football was the first and only time she ever mentioned anything about his life outside of the house at all.

"The old lady doesn't see us like her sons," Roy explained. "She sees us as workhorses or servants or something. And I think she'd rather have us out of the house, coming back after midnight sometimes or whatever, because then she doesn't have to bother things like feeding us, because we do it ourselves when we're out. But so long as we get our chores done, Colin, we could be fucking whores in town every Friday night, plus get six 11th grade girls pregnant at Central High, and she just about wouldn't give a shit."

Mr. Borden was around so little that some days, Colin and Roy hardly saw him at all. And when he was around, he never gave the boys much more than a nod or a hello, and would explain that he was busy any time Colin tried to engage him in real conversation. He'd tried a few times, always getting the same result.

There were times when Colin felt very angry. Bitter. Rejected. It frightened him, made him feel ill at ease with who he was now, but he couldn't seem to help it. Outside this house he was a big-shot, a popular, handsome boy with lots of friends and dating prospects. But at home he was bowing, scraping, serving at the feet of his master, Mrs. Helen Borden. Colin always did as he was told; it was something he knew how to do all too well. But part of him felt very resentful at being treated like this. He never would've imagined that Roy, at home, had been little more than a slave.

Colin turned to Roy when things got too rough. He confided in him, told him the anger he felt sometimes and the bitter, miserable feelings he got from the way Mom and Dad ignored him apart from telling him what to do. It helped a great deal to hear Roy say he was going through the same things, too.

But even talking only seemed to do so much good. Every so often, Colin would feel pressure building up inside him. Rejection, sadness, hate, bitterness, anger, the kind of unending fury that had come in that one moment when he'd been scrubbing the kitchen floor- it all felt like a buildup of steam, and to do nothing about it would make him burst.

So Colin did pushups. He ran. He did situps, crunches, pull-ups on the frame of the door to the bedroom. And instinctively, he did all these things with Roy. His brother was always up for working out. Together, they wrestled, competed in every activity they did, arm-wrestled on the kitchen table when their parents were out. And when Colin still felt he needed to blow off some steam, he'd slip a magazine out of the false bottom of Roy's drawer. Ten minutes of solitude in the bathroom always brought Colin some much-needed bliss.

But behind it all, that vague, nagging doubt remained- that sense that maybe one of these days pushups and jerking off just wouldn't be enough.

What, then, would have to be done when those things just couldn't cut it? What else was there?

 **XX**

Roy and Colin continued to turn heads anywhere they went without their shirts- and they did that almost everywhere. The only real exception was the library, where Colin and Roy would try, every time, to talk Mrs. Larkin into letting them overlook the shoes and shirt part of the dress code. Each time, she'd politely but firmly say no.

Trips to the library, reading up on whatever they could find about the Kingman place, were made fairly often. Colin and Roy both felt drawn to the Kingman place, fascinated by it, obsessed with the desire to learn everything they could about it, this house that had so drastically altered their lives. They followed newspaper updates on the fire that destroyed the mansion, which continued to evade investigators as to the cause. Nobody was suspecting arson, however, so it wasn't expected anyone would be charged.

Trips to the beach, where Colin and Roy would go swimming, surfing, running, always getting attention. Colin, so used to being shy, awkward, and self-conscious, frequently stumbled when trying to talk to girls, but Roy was always there to coach him, and always seemed to cover for mistakes Colin made in a conversation. One thing Colin was getting a hang of, though, was the simple concept of going to the beach, doing something with Roy, and looking good. That was easy enough, and much of the time he was happy just knowing the girls were watching.

Trips to the marina, where Roy and Colin were known by practically every one of the boat owners. A great many were sportsmen- big, tough, manly men, exactly the type Colin's old dad had been. They greeted Roy and Colin like old buddies, waved them over for a can of soda or some lunch. One afternoon, Colin got the shock of his life when a group of guys in their late thirties to mid forties waved to Colin and Roy, who boarded the large, white, well-maintained fishing boat and chatted with them like they'd known them for years. When they had a brief moment alone, Roy confirmed they had.

One of the men had his back to them, was working on a cooking grill that had been set up on deck. Colin and Roy were joking back and forth, trying to talk Mike into letting them have a beer. It was Roy's idea, but Colin was having fun, so he went along with it. Suddenly Mike looked up, over past the boys, and to the man at the grill near the stern.

"Hey, Frank," he called loudly, "You gonna finish those things before the '84 election, or what?"

"Mike, if you knew anything about steak, you'd know it was an artform," the man replied. "But every time anybody tries to cook anything on this goddamn boat, it's like it's a damn fast food joint."

Colin's heart skipped a beat; his pulse quickened. He knew that voice.

"Colin," Roy asked in a near-whisper, "you all right?"

Just then the man turned around, holding a plate of sizzling, juicy steaks. Colin almost passed out when he saw him. He should've noticed the white Cadillac Sedan de Ville parked near the marina, its license plate unchanged. He should've noticed the name of the fishing boat, the _Erica Lynn_. Most of all, Colin knew he should've recognized the man at the grill, even from the back. But he hadn't. And now, with no preparation at all, he was looking at him, all of ten feet away.

It was Frank Jacobs.

 **XX**

At first, Colin just shut down and sat there in a daze. He was paralyzed by the shock of it, but also by fear- instinctively he knew his father would somehow remember him. He'd sound the alarm that this macho gathering was being infiltrated by a bookworm, and before long everyone would know what a wimp Colin actually was.

But Roy, as always, knew what to do. He moved in and gave Colin the time he needed to recover.

"Hey, Mr. Jacobs!" he said brightly, heading over and shaking the tall, rugged man's hand. "Thanks for letting us come aboard again!"

"It's only his boat in his dreams," a man called down from one of the luxurious, cushioned chairs that sat atop the main cabin, under the roof near all the navigation and radio equipment.

"Blow me, Charlie!" Frank yelled good-naturedly, then turned back to Roy.

"Don't mention it, glad to have you around," he said affably, nodding to Colin, who remained at his seat on the bench. "Hey, whaddya say, there, Colin?"

"Hey, Mr. Jacobs," Colin said, a little shakily, but at least he managed to avoid saying "Dad".

"There's men starving on this boat," Mike called out loudly, "And that includes these two."

"We're fourteen, Mr. Wright," Roy said, flashing a smile.

"Old enough," Mike said firmly. "It's _acting_ like a man should that makes you one, not just age. So Frank, you gonna feed us or what?"

"Nah, I think I'll just keep it all to myself," Frank Jacobs said with a smug grin.

"Aw, come on Frank, just pass the damn steaks out!"

A round of laughter- deep, rumbling laughter- greeted that, and Roy stared in surprise, pleased as he clearly was, at Colin. Desperate to cover his macho rep and keep from being 'discovered', Colin had barked the first thing that had come to mind, imitating as best he could the way the men on the boat bantered with each other.

For his part, Frank Jacobs threw his head back and laughed. Then he came over and clapped Colin on the back, grinning. Turning to the men gathering around for the food, paper plates in hand, Frank Jacobs announced, "Because this guy, here, had the guts to tell me what everyone else was thinking, he goes first."

As he got up and was handed a paper plate, Colin hesitated. "Only if my brother gets to go too," he said, and Roy grinned. They went first in line together.

 **XX**

"I'm sorry," Roy said quietly, once they sat by themselves on a bench again, drinking cans of Country Time lemonade- so far, beer acquisition efforts by Roy had been unsuccessful. "I should've warned you."

"It's okay."

"No, really, that was dumb of me. I remember Frank Jacobs, and so do you, but I didn't think of him as anybody important." Roy lowered his voice some more. "You gotta remember, in this life, I've never known him as your father."

"He likes me a lot better now," Colin said quietly, unable to believe how much of an understatement that was. He wasn't sure if he really liked that or not, but it wasn't just his father's opinion of Colin that was different. Colin was different, and so were his likes and dislikes.

Roy said what he was thinking: "You're his kind of guy."

At the very least, Colin was relieved that his father hadn't seen right through him- a ludicrous fear, really, but one he'd been unable to help. He was also doing remarkably well at blending in, giving at least the appearance of being at ease, fitting in among a boat full of manly men. And his father- his former father, bizarre as that term was- didn't bother him or criticize him. He just talked to Colin like he was another buddy, treated him with liking and with respect. Really, Colin found he much preferred that to how they'd gotten along before. At least Frank Jacobs was not trying to get him to change, to become someone else, more to Frank's liking.

Of course, that was because he was more to Frank's liking.

The steak was excellent. Colin was delighted at how good it tasted; the chewy meat was seasoned and cooked just right. His appetite was greater than he was used to, allowing Colin to eat the entire, generously-sized hunk of steak without trouble. He also went through a couple of cans of lemonade, and joked to Roy about pissing over the side of the boat because walking to the bathroom was too much effort.

"It's an idea, isn't it?" Mike said from his chair nearby, nodding and holding up a beer. "But we don't do that here in port, guys. Too many sissy ladies around in this marina who think it's impolite."

"They're just jealous of certain things, Mr. Wright," Roy said, patting his crotch suggestively, and the men nearby all laughed.

"Have you guys thought about what I said last time?" Frank Jacobs asked, making his way over again.

Colin stared. He had no idea what had been said last time. He didn't even remember being here last time.

Roy, once again, caught what Colin dropped. He smoothly replied, "Sure, Mr. Jacobs, we gave some thought to it."

"So?"

"Well, we'd like to go, but then the girls would be missing us at the beach."

Frank Jacobs laughed. "Well, if you ever change your mind, just talk to Charlie and Irv. They'll okay it. So the offer's open if you feel like taking it."

"Thanks, Mr. Jacobs," Roy said. "I'm sure we'll be able to do it sometime."

 **XX**

As they left the marina, Roy said, "I couldn't really tell you then, but we hung out on that boat like this a couple times before. Last time, Mr. Jacobs said we could go with them on their next fishing trip. I think we should go, but I didn't want to make you if you don't wanna be near your ex-old man."

Colin laughed. "I doubt a lot of people hear that word used."

"Probably not," Roy agreed.

"I'm fine going by the marina," Colin said. "My dad- uh, my old dad- doesn't know I used to be his son, so it's okay. I dunno if I wanna go fishing just yet, though. Maybe I oughta get used to some other stuff first."

"Like the smell of pussy?" Roy grinned.

"Like _you_ even know," Colin shot back.

"I'm _gonna_ ," Roy retorted. "We _both_ will. Just you wait."

Sarcastically, Colin added, "Well, just don't go raping anyone on your own."

"If I do," Roy replied, "I'll share her with you." For once, he didn't seem to have noticed Colin's sarcasm. He was talking as if Colin had been serious. Colin thought about saying something about it, but decided to let it go. It was probably another one of Roy's odd jokes.

 **XX**

Going to a row of pay phones, Colin and Roy called Steven and Philip respectively, inviting them down to the beach. Both boys agreed, with the promise that all four would go by Philip's house to do modeling later.

Grinning, Roy added that he'd asked if that meant he and Colin would be posing for lots of pictures with very few clothes on. Philip, unfortunately, had said no. Not that kind of modeling.

While they waited at Charlie's Café, where Colin and Roy took an outside table by themselves, Roy decided to help work on Colin's memory. "We'll do it together," he said. "You need to start remembering more things, so I'll help you."

"Great," Colin said. "I'm tingling with anticipation. Especially in my pants."

"Oh, stop it," Roy said, swatting at him. Colin easily dodged, surprising himself. "See?" Roy said. "You couldn't have done that before. You've got much better reflexes now."

"Okay, okay," Colin said. "Go on and mess with my head."

 **XX**

It went on for almost twenty straight minutes, and by that time Colin's mind was feeling like a mass of overstretched rubber bands. With Roy gently reminding him, telling stories, Colin remembered over a dozen details and exploits from his life as Roy's brother.

"Your favourite color is red, like mine," Roy explained. "Bright red- like blood. And blood doesn't bother you, Colin. It actually gets us both… kind of excited."

"What? We get, you know, hard?"

"We might. Now, you started playing football when you were five. It's your favourite sport, and you're damn good at it, Colin. You _live_ for football. You spend more time on the field and in the weight room than you ever do at home."

"That's because I _hate_ being at home." Colin gave that answer instinctively and vehemently.

"Damn right you do," Roy agreed. "So do I. Now, you and me are going out for junior varsity football at Central right when tryouts start. You remember Coach Molinoff, and Coach Penneman- he's the varsity football coach. He might be giving us playing time with varsity this fall."

"Cool." Colin found he actually liked the idea of playing sports- of being 'one of the guys', part of the team. He was looking forward to it. "When do tryouts start?"

"Orientation is the first week of August," Roy explained. "They have us sit around and listen to the coaches talk, then they have us do some tests, get checked out at the infirmary. They have us do some warm-ups so they can get an idea of what shape we're in."

"I'll do fine with that," Colin said confidently, warming to the subject. "Then what?"

"Second week is tryouts. It's gonna be hot as hell out there, and no, Colin, Coach won't be letting us run around in our underwear."

Colin sighed, frustrated. "He'll just be letting the girls down."

"The girls will be watching you and me anyway, Colin," Roy said with a smile. "Don't worry."

"And after tryouts, school starts, right?" Colin asked. Roy nodded.

"We're going to Central High School. 9th grade. Freshmen. But we aren't going to get shit on like a bunch of normal freshmen do. We're going to be the badasses on campus by the end of our first semester."

Colin wanted to remember more about football. He wanted to know more about girls, what presence they had in his and Roy's life. So he asked Roy more questions, and Roy answered them. He told Colin he was revered for his skill at football- the guys all envied him and Roy alike. He had more friends on the team in his grade than he had a use for.

"And the only reason you haven't had sex yet," Roy said, "is that there's a lot of teasers in our grade. They show it off but won't give it up. It's stupid, Colin, but we'll get around that."

"How?" Colin was genuinely curious.

"We'll find a way."

And then there came a point when Colin, after so much time spent calling on his memory, awakening knowledge he'd already had and recalling things he'd already done, could do it almost without effort. Memories, images, sensations, flashed before him.

The first time he'd ever kissed a girl. The second, third, fourth, tenth. The first time he'd gotten to set his hand on a girl's breast- with her clothes on, sadly- and how it had felt. The orange color of the sunset as he made out with his latest girlfriend behind the Pit. His smooth- or so he thought- attempt to kick things up to third a couple weeks ago. Her refusal, their argument, the breakup.

Then it changed. Nine years old, Colin had crashed his bike and skinned his knee; he'd been so upset, crying, but his parents weren't there. They were never there. Roy had climbed on top of the countertops to get to the medicine cabinet, cleaned off Colin's wound and bandaged it up. Colin remembered the hug they'd shared in the living room, both of them crying softly together. It was okay in the end, though. Everything was okay because they had each other.

Colin Borden brushed his teeth differently from Colin Jacobs. He was right-handed instead of left. He took sugar in his tea, liked cream in his coffee, and delighted in standing up to everything and everyone because it was his instinct to do it. He was an athlete, a charmer, a born fighter. He loved taking risks, and would be the first to meet any dare. Fear and Colin Borden were not well acquainted.

And anger. Colin remembered being very angry, a lot of times, throughout his life. Furious, even. But that aspect of his life he shied away from. He wasn't ready to deal with that yet. It was easier to just try and forget… until the next incident came along. And somehow, they always did. Colin remembered that too.

Roy reminded him of their hundreds of hours spent working out together, of how much Colin enjoyed it. Colin's love of football was coming back to him, he was just remembering how much he loved playing offense and how much he hated defense, when Steven and Philip arrived.

Noticing them approaching, Roy lowered his voice. "We've covered plenty of stuff for now. We'll have more time later."

"Thanks for helping," Colin said, feeling truly grateful.

"No problem," Roy said, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately.

 **XX**

"What's up, guys?" Steven Rose said, bright and cheery. He was dressed in a pink polo and off-white swimming shorts.

"Hey," Phil said simply, holding up a hand and smiling. He was wearing black-and-blue swim shorts with a white t-shirt.

"Gosh, Steven," Roy said coolly, "Look at you. Pink's a guy color now, huh?"

"Yeah, sure is," Steven said flippantly, but his eyes were a little wary.

It was Phil who acted first to break the tension, while Colin was trying to think of something. He shifted his gaze to Colin, laughing and shaking his head.

"What?" Colin asked, genuinely surprised.

"Man," Phil said, still chuckling, "Colin. Dude. Don't you _ever_ put on a shirt?"

"Do either of them?" Steven asked rhetorically.

Colin raised one arm, curling it and flexing his powerful biceps. The muscle became rock-hard, bulging impressively. When he saw Phil and Steven had both started to stare, he asked his own question. "You guys keep staring. See anything you like?"

And Roy, who had sat nearby in silence up til then, giving Steven and Phil some more of those vaguely distrustful looks, cracked up laughing. He remembered Steven's wisecrack from a couple days ago, all right.

Steven and Phil were visibly more at ease after seeing Roy loosen up. They all wandered around on the boardwalk for a while- Colin managed to talk Steven and Philip into ditching their shirts as well, determined (for some reason) to see these two work on both their confidence and their tan- and visited some of the stores. Colin was in a pleasant half-daze for much of it, simultaneously thrilled and embarrassed by all the attractive female eyes he saw looking his way, eying him- and his brother- appreciatively.

Then they went surfing; Colin and Roy once again drew spectators, and fellow surfers, with their skill, good looks, and natural charm. Steven was still inept, but had plenty of determination and a good sense of humor to make up for it. Philip, half-blind without his glasses, somehow managed to keep his bearings somewhat, and like Steven seemed able to take any number of wipeouts. Skinny though they were, these two could take more than you'd have thought just looking at them. They were tougher than they looked.

Colin was quickly coming to find that he and Roy, on the other hand, were even tougher than they looked. Even they screwed up or otherwise went under from time to time. Colin could get thrown around, shoved down to the bottom, and get sand and pebbles in his hair three times in a row and it didn't seem to bother his body much. The heavy use his legs got balancing on his board, or swimming around, barely drained them at all. He was a skilled, powerful swimmer, just like Roy.

The whole time, the twins kept up a steady stream of playful, competitive banter. Colin startled himself with how well he continued to handle this- being so much more talkative and outgoing. He'd just start chattering at Roy, or would immediately respond when Roy said something to him. They threw some of their twinspeak words around, and Colin instinctively enjoyed that in particular. He remembered those words, remembered how they dated back to when he and Roy had first learned to talk.

Roy was like-like, for example. Something you liked. Something good. The best kind of friend. And he seemed to be getting 'better', in his own way, just as Colin was becoming happier and more accustomed with his new life. Roy, already used to being handsome, athletic and popular, was delighted to find he was even more physically fit than he'd been before, and so never quite seemed to stop showing off or admiring himself. But beyond that, Roy just seemed to be in a consistently better mood overall. He was enjoying himself, and although Colin could still hardly believe Roy had ever looked twice at a quiet, skinny dork like him, it pleased him very much to see Roy so happy.

 **XX**

Leaving the beach came hard to all four boys, who all were instinctively drawn to it- the result of a lifetime growing up in a California beach town. They biked away reluctantly, leaving Colin and Roy's many female admirers behind, with Roy explaining how the name rock and roll had supposedly come about.

"Well, they say," Roy said, with exaggerated emphasis on the last word, "that it had to do with hips."

"Hips?" Colin asked curiously.

"Hips," Roy agreed.

"Really? Hips?" Steven Rose asked in disbelief.

"Hips," Roy agreed again.

"Okay, so, what's hips got to do with it?" Steven asked.

"Well, Steven," Roy said, "you know what you do when you're bangin' a girl?"

Steven, riding along near Colin and Roy, flushed as red as his hair. "Yeah- well- I guess."

Roy laughed. "Say it."

"You- you know what you do," Steven said uncomfortably.

"Do I?" Roy asked, feigning confusion.

"Yeah, you do," Steven insisted. He muttered something to himself, sounding unhappy.

"What'd you say?" Roy said sharply, actually whipping his head over to stare accusingly at Steven while he continued riding forward.

"I said you probably know from personal experience anyway," Steven said, looking as embarrassed as he sounded. "So why go asking _me_ about it?"

Roy laughed, looking pleased. "Well. Maybe I wanna hear what you know, all the same."

"Come on, Roy," Phil said from the back, speaking up uncertainly. "Come on."

"Come on her _face_!" Roy said, laughing. "Just _tell_ me, Steven! It'll be a friggin' popper!"

"Gimme a break, Roy," Steven said awkwardly.

"Just _tell_ me," Roy said with exaggerated patience, "what a guy does with his hips. And would you please stop treating sex like it's the grownup cookie jar?"

"Roy, that's enough," Colin said, finally starting to lose patience. " _You_ were the one telling us originally. So _tell_ us. Stop asking Steven." Colin shot him a glance, noting with a certain degree of satisfaction the way he'd tied his shirt around his waist instead of putting it on again. He was imitating his heroes, but mostly with the encouragement Colin had given him. It was nice to see him and Phil both trying some things they weren't accustomed to.

Steven looked back silently, but with gratitude in his eyes, relief on his face.

Roy, on the other hand, glanced at Colin expressionlessly for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, Colin. All right. Well, when you're fucking a girl, you're usually lying on top of her, right?"

"Always my favorite style," Colin said casually, and Steven cracked up. "Nice, Colin," he said, and the two boys exchanged a high five. Roy gave him one too, though he hesitated just a moment before doing so.

"So when you're on top of her," Roy went on, "you move your hips. Forward, back, forward, back. And somebody somewhere said you were rocking and rolling your hips when you did that."

"So… how'd this become a name for a type of music?" Colin asked, still not sure where this was going.

"I dunno," Roy shrugged. He gave Colin a surprised look. "What, did you think I knew everything, man?"

"Wait, you guys _don't_?" Philip spoke up in surprise, and the twins looked at each other and cracked up.

Twins. That meant Colin and Roy were identical. Brothers. Such simple, ordinary words to remind Colin of something that happened to him and Roy- something that was anything but ordinary.

They pulled over and stopped at a corner, getting ready to turn into the residential neighborhoods that led on towards Philip's house.

"What're you guys breathing like that for?" Colin asked, noticing he could hear Philip and Steven a lot easier than he could Roy. In fact, Roy's chest, like Colin's, wasn't moving any more than if he'd been sitting at home in his living room, reading a book. Steven and Philip looked and sounded tired.

"Oh, man," Steven said wearily, wiping a few drops of sweat from his brow. "I gotta stop smokin'."

The boys all laughed, and there was some joshing around about who was gonna tell Mr. Rose about Steven's little 'habit'. Colin looked at Steven and Philip, frowning in confusion. "Seriously, guys. Why're you tired?"

"I dunno how to tell you this," Philip said, "but we're not jocks, Colin. You guys just casually ride faster than we do. You can, so you don't even think about it."

"But we're not even going that fast," Colin said, puzzled. "Really. This is actually kinda slow."

"For _you_ ," Steven said emphatically. "For us it's kinda _fast_."

"I told you, Colin," Roy said, grinning. "You just don't know your own strength, man."

 **XX**

They all went down to the basement upon arriving at Philip's house; Colin had yet another group of memories rushing back to him. The familiar, 'old' smell of the quiet, tastefully-decorated Pacino house, much of the smell coming from paper, wood, and books. A lot of books. He remembered Philip as a little kid- how he might have always struggled to see more than a few feet away without the aid of glasses, but he could read a book, or work on a model, and be just fine. Colin could recall countless hours spent down in the comfortable, cool spaces of the lower half of this half-above ground, half-below house- a wonderful relief from the brutal heat of the summertime, which sometimes even he and Roy got tired of.

Colin could recall flashes, sights and sounds coming back. He was quiet for a little while, watching and listening as Stephen and Philip chattered back and forth, debating- with some participation with Roy- what they'd work on this time. It was nice, remembering all these things from his new life- but it also forced him to withdraw for a little while, slow down and process things.

One memory jarred him; he had been five, maybe six. Looking in a tall mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door in Philip's room. He remembered admiring himself, flexing muscles and being pleased with himself.

He could remember his smooth, suntanned back, from when he'd turned around and looked back at himself.

There'd been no scars then.

 **XX**

Colin made himself rejoin the group, participate in the conversations going on, and he helped them settle on building... _What do you know_ , Colin thought with a smile as he held up the box. It was a 1/24 scale model of the 1957 Chevrolet Nomad.

"Oh, look," Roy said, looking over his shoulder. "Philip's got a hard-on for that car too."

"It isn't like that!" Philip protested, a little embarrassed.

"Alright," Colin said calmly, "What do we need, then? Have we got everything?"

"Sure," Philip said, businesslike and professional as he moved around the workbench. "Bottle of turpentine, Brushed Silver paint jars, got two, uh…" he rummaged around in a cabinet mounted on the wall above the bench. "Oh. There we are. Chrome." He set the other small paint jar on the workbench, then with a distracted backward move of his arm swept his whole shoebox of brushes, cloths and his hobby knife spilling onto the floor.

" _Darn_ it," Philip said, dropping to his knees and trying to scoop everything up.

The other boys moved in to grab things and get them back together, and Steven used his thin, lightweight frame to help get him under the workbench for a few brushes that rolled under there.

The brushes came rolling out, then Colin, chuckling, grabbed hold of Steven's ankles and pulling him smoothly out from under the workbench. Steven was holding something else, and he held it up once Colin let go of him. "Hey! Check it out, guys! Lighter fluid!"

"What?" Roy asked, startled. " _What'd_ you say?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Philip said. "My Dad keeps all kinds of stuff down here. Better just put that back, man. We don't want that around while we're working on this."

"Yeah, better put it back," Steven agreed with mock seriousness, sloshing the liquid inside the metal container around as he shook it in a circle. "If I decide to have a smoke I might set myself on fire!"

" _Never ever say that_!" Roy roared suddenly, standing up, clenched fists at his sides, eyes wide. The muscles in his neck were so tense they looked like bands of steel.

"I'm sorry," Steven whimpered, cringing away and dropping the can. It clattered to the floor and fell over, but nothing came out- the cap was on and closed.

"God- _damnit_!" Roy shouted, bolting forward as if Steven had dropped a live grenade. He snatched it up, checked and made sure it was securely closed, then shoved it far underneath the work bench as if it might explode at any moment.

The room was silent for a few moments. Nobody moved.

"What- what was that _about_?" Philip asked, wide-eyed and shocked.

Steven just stayed frozen in place, shaking like a leaf. He stared wide-eyed at everyone but couldn't seem to speak.

"You- you idiots were gonna get us killed," Roy spat angrily. " _That's_ what it was about."

"I'm not an idiot," Steven whispered, tears at the edges of his eyes.

"Oh, yeah?" Roy asked, taking a step forward. "Maybe you should stop _contradicting_ me, Steven."

"No," Colin said, grabbing Roy's arm. "That's enough, Roy. We're going outside and we're gonna talk." The words were out of his mouth before he could call them back. Where did that come from? This was quiet, bookish Colin here- he never in his life had talked like that! Not to anyone, much less a muscular, powerful athlete like Roy!

Roy's arm was nothing but bands of thick, strong steel. It was like the trunk of a decent-sized tree, only just starting to show the size it would eventually reach. These were muscles that had the power to lift incredible amounts of weight, stun whole crowds of girls- and do great harm to best friends, if his temper- and whatever was on his mind about Steven and Philip- got the better of him. Colin hoped he wouldn't have to use his own muscles to keep that from happening.

Roy's head whipped around to look at Colin, but the tension in his arm slackened immediately as he looked at his brother's face. "Okay," Roy sighed. "Fine."

They walked out the nearby door to the back yard and left, leaving an awkward silence behind them.

 **XX**

"So you wanna tell me what that was about?" Colin demanded, the minute they'd gone far enough from the house to be out of earshot.

"Look, Colin, I'm sorry. Okay?" Roy's voice was strained; he looked as agitated and confused as Colin felt.

"Roy, what- what happened back there? You freaked out when Steven made that joke about-"

"Colin," Roy said in that low, strained voice, as if it was taking him a lot of effort to keep under control, "I do _not_ wanna talk about it right now. But somebody- one of them- did get set on fire in that room, with that can of lighter fluid. He burned himself to death and the house went with him. They had to identify him by his teeth."

Colin stared at Roy in the dark, at a loss for words. "Oh, my God," he whispered. There wasn't a more horrible way to die. Burning to death… it wasn't very fast, and every second involved a _lot_ of pain.

"But… but- how do you _know_ that?" Colin asked suddenly. He strained to think of the memory, of the death of Steven Rose or Philip Pacino, but little pencilneck Colin Jacobs hadn't even known who those two were, let alone been their best friends. There was nothing.

"I know," Roy said. "Just me. I… never told him. Steven. I never told him Philip burned to death in there."

"Jesus," Colin said, running his hands through his hair. He kept them there, looking around distractedly, and noted, in a ridiculously irrelevant moment's observation, that while his head hair was golden blond, his armpit hair was jet black. Just like his pubic hair.

 _Christ_ , he thought shamefully, _I really_ am _a jock in this life. One of my best friends burned to death in another life and I'm still thinking about my friggin penis_.

 _Cock_ , he suddenly corrected himself. Doctors say penis. _Teenage boys who wanna bang girls say cock_.

 _Great job staying on subject there_.

"But why'd you have to yell at them like that?" Colin asked, rounding on Roy. "It _scares_ them! They don't like it, and they're not gonna _be_ friends with us much longer if that keeps happening! Is there some problem you have with them or something?"

"Colin, slow down," Roy said, holding his hands up. "Remember what I told you-"

"I wanna _know_ , Roy!" Colin insisted. "I _like_ those two, and I just feel like you don't! What's the deal?"

Roy just waited, then quietly said, "Colin, do you trust me?"

Colin blew out a breath of air and ran his hands through his hair rapidly, exasperated. "Look, enough about-"

Calmly but firmly, Roy set his hands on Colin's- his brother's- round, muscular shoulders.

"Do you trust me?" he repeated quietly. He held Colin's gaze, and the two boys looked at each other for almost a minute.

Finally Colin dropped his gaze, sighing. He looked back at Roy, nodding. "Yes. I do. So please, Roy. Help me out, will you?"

"Colin, I can't tell you now," Roy said. "Just- let me do it on my own time. Okay? There's some things from my old life, I guess I gotta tell you about sometime. They're about those two."

"Steven and Philip."

"Yeah. They both wound up dead before this summer."

Colin's eyes went wide, and he felt a jolt of sickening horror. "What?! How-"

"Later, Colin. I promise. I'll tell you later."

Colin sighed. "There's some other things you were gonna tell me later, too."

"I'm gonna tell you everything, Colin," Roy said quietly. "I'm saying that from the bottom of my heart. Everything I know, you'll know. There'll be no secrets between us."

"So why not tell me already?" Colin asked, frustrated.

"Because you've got enough to deal with," Roy answered. "Your life is complicated enough as it is. You need to get other things straight before you go dealing with this stuff."

"That's the way it's gotta be?"

"That's the way it needs to be, Colin," Roy said, pleading a little. "Trust me."

Colin sighed again. "Okay." He looked at Roy. "But I need you do to something now."

"Anything, brother," Roy said, and they both smiled a little.

"I need you to go in there and apologize. We both will, but you need to most of all."

"Okay," Roy agreed. "I will."

"One other thing."

"Name it."

"I want you to help me with Steven. And Philip if we can."

"With what?"

"Getting him to work out a little. Helping him be more confident." Colin paused, then shrugged. "Maybe let's even get him laid."

Roy's eyes went wide. "What? Colin, we've got enough problems with that ourselves! Remember how many times we've been rejected by now? Hell, just behind the Pit!"

"Well, fucking in an alley isn't exactly that classy," Colin shrugged.

Roy laughed. "No, but it'd fucking feel good."

"Yeah." He laughed. "Look, I was kidding. But can we try and help them? They're great guys, really great guys. I just can tell they could use some more self-esteem."

Roy looked at him for a few moments. "They might not be as great as you think they are, Colin."

"Why?"

"There might be some… loyalty issues."

"They seem pretty loyal to me," Colin said after a moment. "I can't think of a moment when they ever let us down, not in my life." He paused. "Remember that?"

Roy was silent for a few moments, then reluctantly nodded. "In _this_ life," he emphasized.

"Well, then, this is the one we have now. So let's go in there and work on a fucking model. Have some fun. Let's make it up to these guys, okay?"

Roy was smiling. "Colin, can you please say 'fuck' one more time?"

"Fuck."

Roy laughed. "Say 'cock'."

Colin hesitated, but he said it.

Roy giggled like a little kid. "Colin, I like you even better as my brother. You swear a _lot_ more now."

"I like you too," Colin said, embarrassed but immensely pleased. "Anyway, it's easier now," Colin said. "I can tell I've done it more often."

"That's not the _only_ thing you've done more often," Roy said, winking.

"Like what?" Colin asked, suddenly very curious.

"Later," Roy said gently. "Let's go in and make things right for now, okay?"

"Okay."

 **XX**

"Look, I'm just saying it's my fault, man," Steven was saying to Philip when they came back in. "Roy was cool with me, but I walked in his and Colin's room, and I just upset him, I guess."

"Well, just don't go blaming it all on y-" Phil began, then broke off as he noticed Colin and Roy coming in.

"Man," Steven joked weakly, "You two just wear shirts when somebody makes you, don't you?"

"That's pretty much it, yeah," Roy said, and Colin nodded in agreement.

"You're one to talk, though," Colin added, and Steven grinned sheepishly. Philip had promptly put his shirt back on when they got back, but Steven was still going around bare-chested.

"Guys," Roy said, "I have to tell you something. It's been bothering me a lot lately and I guess I took it out on you. That was wrong of me. I apologize."

"What is it?" Philip and Steven asked together.

"Bless me, Father," Roy said, "for I am a virgin."

Steven and Philip stared, mouths open, in disbelief. " _You_?" Steven asked.

"Me, too," Colin admitted- a quick but intense search of his memories came up with nothing to contradict that. The look of disbelief on the other two boys' faces only increased. They appeared as if they'd just been told up was down and short was long, and that the ocean was actually made of vinegar.

"I think I'm in some dream," Steven said. "No way am I hearing what I'm hearing."

"It's true, guys," Roy said simply. "And that's the thing that's been bothering me. I've gone for third base so many times, and I keep getting slapped down. It happened with my last girl a couple weeks ago, and it just pisses me off."

"Wow," Phil said.

"So, it's just gotten on my nerves," Roy said. "That's all. And the lighter fluid… well, Steven's just always clowning around. I got scared he'd slip up and have an accident." He paused, looking around at them. "That's all, guys. I'm not really mad at either of you. I promise. I'm sorry."

"We both are," Colin added. "We got football tryouts coming up pretty soon, so we're both kinda on edge. It's nothing to do with you guys. You're okay."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Then Phil stood up from where he'd been sitting, taking off the top of the Nomad model's box. He started taking out parts and pieces, setting them out on the desk.

"It's all right. Really. Let's get started, guys," he said. "We're gonna start with priming coats on everything except the window plastic and the tires."

"Okay," Steven said, getting up. "But I want one more apology later."

"Huh?" Colin and Roy said together.

Steven smiled. "For bullshitting me and Phil."

"About _what_?" Roy asked incredulously. "Everything I said was _true_!"

"Come on," Steven said, giving the twins a look. "Girl troubles and all, I buy that. But there is no _way_ you two haven't gotten laid yet. It's cool. Dr. Rose understands."

It was hopeless. Roy and Colin glanced at each other, realized the futility of the situation, and just cracked up laughing.

"Okay, okay," Roy said, still laughing as he and Colin came over to start work on the model. "We're sorry about that too."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Being around the house at all, even if he had free time and Mrs. Borden left him alone, was steadily becoming unbearable. Colin just didn't want to be there. Day in and day out, the list of chores was the same: long, unpleasant, and difficult. Tasks were assigned in such a way that Colin and Roy were unable to work together more often than not, a circumstance both boys doubted wasn't on purpose.

It made Colin… angry. He was quickly becoming aware of an instinctive, intense dislike of anyone or anything that tried to come between him and Roy, or take them away from each other.

But then it wasn't like it was that unusual for Colin to get angry. He had always been quiet, taking the path of least resistance. In this new life he was a born fighter, but even the fearless Roy seemed unable to break the hold their parents had on their lives, despite having little to do with them besides assigning them chores and giving them a room to sleep in. Colin was already well-trained in the art of just sitting there and taking it. But he was amazed at the degree to which he now longed to retaliate sometimes, to pay back the injustices being done to him and Roy. And Colin knew that Roy felt the same way.

Whether their parents knew it or not, there was a _lot_ of hate in the Borden house.

 **XX**

Colin lay in his bed one night, a few days after he'd gotten that scare, seeing his big, macho dad at the marina- and getting that big surprise, finding out that who he was now suited his father way more than it had before. Colin remembered well what he remembered feeling about Frank Jacobs before, so he wasn't sure how he felt about that. His dominant feeling right now, ludicrous though it was to think something like this, was gratitude that Frank Jacobs hadn't detected the disguised bookworm in his midst and given him away.

Of course, Colin wasn't such a bookworm anymore. He and Roy were smart, sure, and they'd read things and talk about books after grudgingly putting on shirts at the library- but they didn't do anywhere near as much of it as Colin had once been used to. And in comparison to his budding library at the Jacobs house, Colin now owned practically no books at all. A bookshelf with books he liked would have been a sign that human beings, especially teenage boys, lived in this room, something Mrs. Jacobs was not okay with. So Colin didn't read sci-fi or horror or anything else, none of his old familiar literature, unless he visited the library. Here at home, there was nothing except a bunch of the parents' hobby and interest magazines, some encyclopedias, a few thoroughly dry novels. Colin hardly ever heard the slight rasping sound of a page turning when he was enjoying some eye-candy in the bathroom, a guilty pleasure he was slowly forgetting the "guilty" half of as he became more confident about not getting caught.

But if merely having his books taken away was the only difference, Colin would've been smuggling novels into this house every night.

Lying there in his bunk in the dark, Colin set a hand on his left arm, gripping biceps and triceps that were bigger relaxed than his Jacobs-self's arms had been fully tensed. He set a hand on his broad, thick-muscled shoulders, his chiseled, slab-like chest, the strong, rock-hard abs. Colin wasn't just in awe of Roy anymore, though he definitely still was. With an identical star athlete's body of his own now, Colin was in awe of _himself_.

Cured of his bad eyesight, rid of his weak muscles, and gifted with some extra inches below the waist. Better looking, and more confident. Colin knew he'd been acting very oddly lately, by his old standards. He kept making wisecracks, bantering easily with people, including guys and girls his age, he barely knew until Roy explained them to him. He had this confidence that would assert itself, seemingly whenever hesitation, nervousness and self-doubt was about to step in like it always had for Colin Jacobs. For Colin Borden, the born fighter, it was very different.

Roy turned over in his bunk, mumbling.

"I don' wanna ride the pony. Hafta? Kay…"

A grin spread out on Colin's new, handsome face, and he clapped a hand over his mouth as he fought not to laugh out loud.

Slowly, gradually, the hysterical urge to crack up laughing at the sleepily reluctant, then resigned way Roy had talked faded, and Colin trusted himself to let his hand off again. He'd have to tell Roy about this sometime.

 _My_ brother, Colin thought suddenly, as if admonishing himself sternly for what he'd just said. _Gotta tell my_ brother. _For Chrissakes, you've only known him your_ whole life.

Colin quickly stifled the confused replying thought, about how he'd only met Roy so many days ago this summer. That had all the signs of bringing on another agonizing headache, and he'd had enough of those. Dual, conflicting memories of the same day were no fun whatsoever. And slowly, Colin was coming to feel like maybe he didn't even care that much about half the memories from his old life. He'd been a scrawny little bookworm that Roy had, for reasons he still wasn't sure about, decided he wanted to not only be friends, but brothers with. Roy had saved Colin from himself.

 _What did I really have before, anyway_? Colin thought. _So I had my books, and Mom was nicer to me. So what? I had no friends, none except Roy. Girls never looked twice- oh, please. They never even looked_ once.

Maybe Roy was right. Maybe there really _had_ been nothing before.

 **XX**

Colin still woke up many mornings thinking he was back at 'home', Colin Jacobs again, that he and Roy were just friends and that all of this stuff about them being brothers had been just a dream. But every day, that had proved false. He continued to wake up as handsome, muscular, popular Colin Borden.

It was becoming a pretty fun process, in fact. Colin would wake up from one dream and start living another.

Mrs. Borden seemed to think only of herself and her rigid, cold-hearted vision of the ideal household. Mr. Borden was always gone at work, in his garage working on his trains. He had two teenage boys growing up in his house and he barely took time to notice. Colin was steadily recalling memory after memory, of a life lived with a father who was barely a father at all. He and Roy had, for years, pretty much drifted along on their own. They bitterly refused to allow any lasting influence from Mrs. Borden, and Mr. Borden offered them no real guidance and never had. They were on their own.

Surges of rage would enter Colin at times. After Mrs. Borden accused him of lying yet again yesterday, Colin had gone back to slaving away in the garden and found he couldn't concentrate on his work, couldn't plant a thing or keep his trowel steady. His hands were shaking.

Colin thought about death in a sudden, exhilarating, horrifying rush, seeing things before his eyes as he lay there in the dark. Death had never seemed so exciting, so interesting. What gave you more power than taking life? And what was a teenage boy's power, essentially, if not to give it? To give life, and death. Except death was better. It was even more of a rush than fucking, and Colin knew that, even though he hadn't fucked yet. Death, blood, stabbing and cutting, having godlike power over the life of something else.

"You ever killed anything?" Roy's voice in Colin's ear, in his memory, like it was yesterday.

 _I did_ , Colin thought, with a greasy, cold feeling, a ball of ice in his stomach. _We did it together_.

Colin abruptly ran a hand through his hair, turning his head as he did so. His eyes, well adjusted to the dark, set upon his raised arm, sleek with powerful muscle that rippled like water under the skin at the slightest movement. It made Colin's stomach flutter excitedly. He couldn't _believe_ he had so much power, so much strength. And physical activity, anything active that got the muscles moving, the heart pumping, seemed to draw Colin the way a good horror novel had once done. How hadn't he _known_ what fun a hundred pushups were before?

And speaking of fun… Colin's balls ached, a dull, happy throb from a particularly good go at it, just after his shower. Colin had fantasized about humping the girl he looked at in the magazine, fucking her just as hard and fast as he could. He was getting to be okay with admitting it to himself- he wasn't far off from Roy about this one. Colin at least wasn't opposed to anything that felt so good- and sex was supposed to feel a _lot_ better than jerking off.

With these happy thoughts in his head, and that pleasurable, lingering ache to help lull him to sleep, Colin forgot about the rage. He pushed the anger as far out of his mind as he could. And he went to bed, proud to have the confidence to be wearing just his underwear. Proud, just plain proud, to be Roy's brother.

 **XX**

With football tryouts starting in just a couple more weeks, Colin began feeling anxious. Used to being shy, awkward, and hopelessly outclassed in any contest of strength and endurance, Colin felt he had enough to deal with having had all that reversed. Inside, he still felt very much like his old self, expected to be ignored and overlooked everywhere he went. But the opposite just kept on happening.

And he had that athletic jacket in the closet, dozens of memories of playing football and how much he'd loved it- always, naturally, competing with Roy to prove who was better.

To help keep himself calm, and because he honestly was coming to like doing it, Colin began taking up any offer Roy made to go running, swimming, or work out. Stephen Rose began showing up to join them once or twice a week, and while that pleased Colin, he also found it frustrating to have to hold himself back to what was practically a light warmup so Stephen could keep pace. With a thinly-muscled chest that had never tried a bench-press at all, Stephen was probably not even capable of benching 50 pounds yet. Colin, to his awe and joy, quickly discovered he, like Roy, could do better than 200.

Mrs. Borden, seeming to be grudgingly satisfied with Colin and Roy's work, began to stop giving her orders verbally and started writing out lists instead. They were long, highly detailed, and didn't really even involve cleaning the house at all- they were orders to sterilize it.

Long hours of work, every day, were wasted on cleaning this goddamn house, over and over. A mother who, if she spoke to him at all, was cold and quick to anger. A father who was barely around, and when he was, seemed perpetually occupied, his mind somewhere else. Colin found himself beginning to wonder how the hell Roy had stood it all those years on his own. Colin had always been shy, had always considered not drawing attention to be a priority, and achieving anonymity a good thing.

But this…

It was like Colin didn't even exist. Mom- his old Mom- had at least talked to him every day, and done what she could to see that Colin had a few nice things in his room, or some spending money she'd go encourage him to have some fun with. Even if Roy doubted her sincerity, Colin's Mom had also asserted often how she was working so hard out of necessity, not by choice.

The Borden household didn't seem to be struggling financially. They weren't rich, but they sure weren't poor. Yet both parents clearly considered their jobs to be vastly more important than the two fourteen-year-old boys living in the house. Mrs. Borden provided them an allowance, but it very much seemed to be something done grudgingly- probably to encourage them to get out of the house and away from Helen Borden.

Colin didn't exactly need a lot of encouragement there. He was less verbal about criticizing her- Roy bitched freely about "the old lady", or sometimes, "the old cunt", any time their parents were gone. But Colin didn't interrupt or show disagreement with him, either.

With all of Mrs. Borden's obsessions about cleanliness, Colin was getting awfully tired of scrubbing things until you could eat off them, and then scrubbing some more. He hated feeling like he was being taken advantage of- his gorgeous, awesome muscles being used purely for their lifting and moving power. He was Colin the Work Horse in this house- yet he could tell he was so much more to other people. At school, he was probably some kind of stud-god alongside Roy. But in this house he was an animal.

Colin found he hated the kitchen floor. He _hated_ that fucking thing, so pristine and white… and once, at some time, Colin had experienced agonizing pain not far away from it. He was starting to remember things.

He had a nightmare one night, a horror movie whose stars were Colin and his twin brother Roy. It was pretty quick, a handful of interlinked flashes that together made the film.

Colin saw it like it had really happened.

The brown mud tracked on the kitchen floor as Colin and Roy came in, having really had some fun outdoors today.

The screams of Mrs. Borden as she swung the metal dustpan as hard as she could, tearing it into Colin and Roy's backs. Their cries of pain each time it hit.

And their red blood as it spattered the white tiles.

 **XX**

Colin sat bolt upright, screaming in wide-eyed terror. It took him almost a minute to stop, and as he did, he noticed Roy was there, crouched beside him in the darkness. It was he who'd jammed the pillow against Colin's mouth, saving him from waking their parents.

He looked as scared as Colin felt.

"Nightmare?" Roy asked quietly once he'd lowered the pillow.

"Yeah," Colin whispered. His mouth was dry.

"What happened?"

Colin reached around and put a hand on his back, sliding his palm across it. Smooth, tanned, handsome flesh abruptly gave way to jagged bands of scar tissue, the scars that zigzagged his back and had never fully healed.

He felt the pain again. He could remember it like it had happened yesterday. The memory of it, and of the agony he and Roy had gone through, brought tears to Colin's eyes.

Roy didn't have to ask. He already remembered what happened, knew more than Colin had recalled so far. He got up, sat beside Colin on his bed, and put an arm around his broad shoulders as Colin cried into his pillow, muffling his sobs as best he could to keep from waking the old lady up.

"You were gonna remember it sooner or later," Roy said quietly. "It was coming. I knew it was. But at least you got to forget for a while, Colin. I never got to."

Colin sobbed some more, dropping the damp pillow and hiding his face against Roy's broad shoulder. Immediately, he felt better, safer. No Dad- not that he'd really had one before- and now no Mom, mediocre as his old mother had been. Nobody really gave a damn whether Colin lived or died, and that was only so much of a change from his old life. It hurt so bad Colin just couldn't seem to stop crying. How could no one _see_ any of it? Didn't anyone _care_?

Roy.

Roy cared.

Feeling terribly ashamed of what a dork he was being, Colin fought to get himself under control. It took a while, but slowly- slowly- he began to manage it.

"I'm not sorry, Roy," Colin suddenly said, sitting up and spitting venom through his tears. "I'm not sorry, and I'd do it again, and one of these days I'm gonna make her eat it- _eat it_ \- _EAT IT_!"

Colin's hands formed into fists as he talked, and he slammed them into the mattress with a series of heavy thumps, his powerful arm muscles driving his fists down hard enough to make dents.

Roy suddenly tensed and clamped a hand over Colin's mouth; Colin's voice had steadily risen until, within moments, he'd almost been shouting. Colin managed to come back to himself just enough that he stayed silent and still, just like Roy, waiting for the first sign that he'd awoken their parents. But the door to the boys' room was closed; the door to their parents' room was closed. After almost a minute of dead silence, with the only sound the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, both boys relaxed.

But still breathing hard, still seething with rage, Colin couldn't seem to stop himself. He couldn't remember everything- he had a nagging sense that maybe he'd done something besides track mud on the kitchen floor- but he was sure as hell not sorry about _that_.

"I'm not sorry," he said again, his voice trembling with fury. "I did it."

Roy looked at him, his expression unreadable.

" _We_ did it," Roy said quietly.

"I _meant_ to do it."

"Of course you did."

"Because I _wanted_ to."

"No better reason."

"And… I'd do it again… and they can't… fucking… _stop me_!" Colin barely managed to keep his voice down; it cracked, jumping to a high pitch suddenly, and Colin blushed furiously even in the dark.

"Colin," Roy said quietly, "that old lady did that to us because- because she hates us. She's a weak old cunt who's never amounted to anything. If we hadn't gone and done what we did, she'd have just beat us up some other time."

"I'll knife her," Colin spat. "I'll just go in there right now, Roy- I'll- I'll-" he broke down suddenly, realizing what he was saying for the first time. "What- what'm I _saying_?" he asked in horror. "What is _happening_ to me?"

"You're remembering, Colin," Roy said, his voice calm and even. "You're coming back to who you are."

"Roy, what-"

"It's fine," Roy said, hugging his brother close. "Don't be scared. You aren't Colin Jacobs anymore, and you need to start really letting go of that."

"That's still who I am, kinda," Colin said, sniffling and hiding his watery eyes against Roy's shoulder again. "I can't help it."

"No, it's not, Colin," Roy said evenly. "You can see without glasses now. You're an athlete. Girls are _dying_ to see you naked. You're confident, you've got lots of friends. When school starts you're gonna see how good it _really_ is for you now."

"Doesn't feel like it," Colin said bleakly.

"Just trust me," Roy said, his voice soft and gentle. "I'll help. You just need to remember some more. Once you do… I'll get you back to how we've been coping. How I coped by myself for years, until I met you. It'll help once we get back to doing it. It's gonna seem scary to you, because of who you used to be. But eventually you remember how much you've always liked it. I promise. Okay?"

Colin nodded. "Okay."

"I love you, Colin," Roy said quietly, hugging him again in the dark. "You're my brother." He paused. "Remember that?"

It didn't take long for Colin to remember him and Roy comforting each other, tightly holding hands as they lay there in the hospital room. The doctors working to save the skin that was left, to repair the damage where it had been ripped up or torn away. Colin and Roy, two boys with the same face, in incredible pain despite all the doctors were trying to do. But they kept their hands together, and as long as they did that, they were able to stand it. The old bitch was gonna have to kill them both if she planned on taking that last source of comfort and refuge away.

"Yeah," Colin said, nodding. He could barely speak. "I remember."

Now he hugged Roy, throwing his arms around his middle just like he'd done all those years ago, when those Big People at daycare had tried to take Roy away. Roy was no longer his first friend, his best friend, his only friend. Roy was his brother, and it felt so wonderful Colin actually felt happy again. He knew he'd be okay- at least for a little while. Roy hugged him back, and they sat there on Colin's bed like that, twin boys protecting each other against a world that had done its best to tear them apart since the beginning. Right then, Colin felt a kind of love for Roy he hadn't imagined he could know. He had no one in his old life, no one in this life. Nobody at all, except Roy.

But Roy was enough.

 **XX**

The next morning, Colin quickly started to realize he was not getting used to being ignored at all. His old parents had overlooked him often, been preoccupied with their own affairs, but they had both acknowledged Colin in the house when they'd been married, and had made some effort to engage him in conversation, take him out to do things now and then. At least they'd been trying.

Here, Colin had a mother who, when she did speak to him, did so in a cold and instructional tone. She'd openly accused him of being a liar once already, and she hadn't needed much provocation to threaten to deny him from getting to attend football tryouts. And she sure as hell wasn't going to give Colin five dollars to go get himself a new book with, the way Weezy had often done.

His father wasn't so bad, and Colin actually felt they were- or, rather, had once been- remarkably similar people. Introverted in a big way, smart and insightful, detail-oriented, but not at all good at talking to people.

Colin remembered how he'd helped at the few times when he came out of his own little world. He'd come home and rushed to stop Mrs. Borden from beating her boys anymore, and he'd been the one to call 911 and get the professionals on it- both for Mrs. Borden's fragile mind and Colin and Roy's torn-up backs. Colin recalled feeling a certain gratitude towards his father for that, and it seemed like he still did. Trouble was, the man had emerged from his private world, helped his boys briefly, and then immediately returned to it again.

Sitting at the table at breakfast, Colin tried to summon up some of that goodwill he remembered. Maybe he could draw Dad out on his own.

"So, Dad!" Colin said brightly, looking over at his father, who was reading a lawyer's magazine.

"Mm-hm?" Mr. Borden answered, drinking from his mug of coffee.

"Football tryouts are starting pretty soon. Maybe you could come watch."

Mr. Borden glanced at Colin briefly. "I'll probably be at work, Roy."

"I'm Colin, Dad," Colin said.

"Colin, I'll _probably_ have to be at work," Mr. Borden said, sounding a little flustered. "I have a big case to work on."

Seated opposite from Colin, Roy suddenly gave his brother a sharp kick in the shins.

Colin looked at him questioningly.

Roy just shook his head, widening his eyes a little bit. When Colin kept looking at him uncertainly, Roy mouthed "You're wasting your time."

Colin looked back in confusion; he wasn't sure what that really meant. Surely Mr. Borden wasn't that self-absorbed. Even Colin Jacobs hadn't been. If he had, he'd never have met Roy Borden… or become his brother.

"Well," Colin said, trying again, "Maybe you can come to some of our games."

"I'll probably be busy, Colin."

"How about I get you the football schedule? Coach Molinoff says Coach Penneman might even give us playing time in a few varsity games-"

Sighing impatiently, Mr. Borden set down his magazine. "Colin," he said tersely, "I'm _not_ very _interested_ in football."

Colin's heart sank; unfamiliar as he was with who he was now, he knew he'd loved football all his life.

"But-" Colin began, still not giving up, but Mr. Borden cut him off.

"I can almost _guarantee_ you I'm going to be busy any day you have a-a game, practice, whatever they are. The law firm doesn't leave me with a lot of free time, Colin. You understand?"

Dropping his eyes and staring at his bowl, Colin suddenly found his appetite was gone. "Yeah, Dad," he said, "Sure. I understand that."

"We don't say 'yeah' to parents in this house," Mrs. Borden admonished sternly, looking up from her newspaper. "Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Colin said.

"Then give a proper response to your father."

Turning back to Mr. Borden, Colin said, "Yes, sir."

He then resumed trying to eat his cereal. He didn't want it anymore, but he had a feeling he wasn't gonna be giving much choice about that either. Throwing away food would probably mean putting trash in the pristine trash can. God forbid _that_ should happen.

After a minute or two, Mr. Borden looked up from his magazine. "Don't you think that was a little harsh, Helen?"

Mrs. Borden set down her newspaper. "No. Colin's a stereotypical jock. He thinks his muscles exempt him from all the rules, and all these teenagers think they're above manners nowadays. It's for his own good that we discipline the boys here."

Mr. Borden half-heartedly shrugged, resuming reading his law magazine. "Well," he said distractedly, "okay."

Colin suddenly felt like crying.

Roy kicked him in the shins again.

Looking up at the boy whose face he shared now, Colin saw Roy's blue eyes gazing at him with pity; his whole face was filled with sympathy.

"Told you so," Roy mouthed. Colin just nodded and tried to finish his cereal. He was suddenly very eager to get started on his cleaning work for today. He was eager to earn his free time for today, because he was dying to get out of this house.

 **XX**

The task for today involved sweeping, mopping, drying, waxing and buffing every tiled and wooden floor surface in the house. For once, incredibly, it was work that allowed Colin and Roy to remain fairly close together. They swapped fake pussy stories, encouraging each other with reminders they wouldn't be fake for much longer. They talked about girls at school, girls Colin didn't even know but apparently did, comparing their bodies the same way you compared sports cars.

Colin was pretty embarrassed to be even saying words like 'ass' and 'tits', let alone discussing in detail which girls had the best ones, who he'd like to screw the most. And yet somehow his body and mouth seemed to think otherwise; he said the words without blushing, without stammering. And he found he enjoyed talking about these things with Roy.

"Sometime," Roy said as he scrubbed the wood hallway floor, "I wanna really give it to some girl. I mean, just rip her up."

"Won't you anyway?" Colin asked.

"Well, yeah, with a cock as big as mine," Roy said, shrugging modestly and smiling to show he liked Colin's joke. "But I mean, like, just do whatever I want. No rubber, nothing, just do anything I want until I'm done with her." He smiled, visualizing it. "Anything. _Anything_ I want."

"That sounds like you're talking about rape."

"Maybe I _am_ talking about rape."

"Isn't getting laid good enough for you?"

"It's good," Roy said. "It'll be _real_ good. It'll be a popper. But thing is, there's things you can't do normally 'cause no girl's gonna let you."

"Maybe we need to screw college girls, then."

"No," Roy said, shaking his head. "Stop being a wiseass."

"But I'm good at it."

"Well, yes, I know that," Roy said in exasperation. " _God_ , I wish that hadn't carried over."

"Look at what _I_ gotta put up with," Colin shot back, scrubbing away.

Roy actually stopped scrubbing to look up at his brother in surprise. "Huh? What're you talking about?"

Calmly, Colin looked back and replied, "I gotta go around wearing _your_ face."

Roy reached for him then, but Colin had anticipated that and scrambled backwards, getting up and moving away. Roy tried to get up and give chase, but his feet shot out from under him on the wet floor. Laughing madly, Colin dodged the wet sponge that Roy threw at him and ran off downstairs. When Roy finally found his hiding spot twenty minutes later, Colin sprang out, tackled him to the floor and won the wrestling match that followed.

It was unbelievable. Colin knew the moment it happened that he'd be in awe of this achievement for a long time to come. He, pencilneck- hell, pencil arm, pencil-everything Colin Jacobs, had taken down an even _more_ muscular Roy Borden in a wrestling match.

The whole thing was too much some days. Colin wished he could withdraw into his shell like a turtle, be safe and solitary for a while until he'd worked things out. His world was turned upside down. Running headlong into a new, completely different life was a daunting task.

But then Colin looked at himself in the mirror just before they left the house, as usual opting to wear only a pair of shorts and some running shoes. That sculpted-and-chiseled body, looking like it could have been modeled off one of those Greek or Roman marble statues, was just as packed with power as Roy's. This was who he was now; handsome, strong, fast and popular, cool and hot simultaneously. Colin promptly forgot about last night's nightmare, forgot the rage he'd felt surging into him as certain memories resurfaced. He was Colin Borden now, and he was a stud.

It made him smile every time he thought about it. Every single time.

 **XX**

"You know," Roy said as he pedaled along beside Colin, "I gotta tell you, man, I _never_ went shirtless this much before."

"What, you didn't like how you looked then?"

"I _loved_ how I looked," Roy said, grinning.

"So what's the problem?"

"You know the problem."

Colin sobered up as he glanced at the jagged, melted scars crisscrossing Roy's back- and remembered that he was wearing a set of his own. "Yeah." He glanced over at Roy. "Well, how come nobody ever mentions it?" Well, almost nobody.

"We're pretty well-known. People know to stay away from that subject with us."

"But if you didn't do it that much before, how come I do it now?"

"Well, Colin, you should ask yourself that."

"Jeez."

"No, really," Roy insisted. "You first started wanting to go everywhere shirtless back in the summer of… oh, man. I dunno. It's been forever."

"Wait, you're saying I've been acting like this for _years_?" Colin asked in genuine surprise. "I thought I'd just started that like a week or two ago."

"You _resumed_ doing it," Roy corrected him. "You just went back to an old habit you have in this life."

"Oh, yeah? Do I have any other habits I don't know about?"

"Maybe."

"Do I smoke?"

"Not really. We had a few for fun a few times when we found this pack last summer, but that stuff's actually really overrated."

"All right, how about cocaine?"

" _You_ know what _cocaine_ is?"

"I read about it," Colin said, shyly and defensively at the same time.

"No, Colin," Roy said in exasperation. "Even _we_ couldn't get that."

"I thought you knew everybody in town."

"I don't know anybody who sells coke."

"Guns?"

"The hell would we do with _guns_? They make too much goddamn noise. We'd need a suppressor, and those things are only available to Green Berets and the CIA and all."

"So what dealer has the stolen cars?"

"There's no stolen car _dealership_!" Roy said, getting frustrated. Colin started to laugh, and Roy glared at him. "What? What's funny?"

They'd stopped at a street corner, waiting for some cars to pass before they crossed. Like he'd been doing it all his life, Colin reached over and ruffled Roy's blond hair. "You," he said, looking at Roy with genuine affection. He was new to this life, brand new, but he was finding it very easy to embrace Roy being his brother. He felt like he liked Roy a little more every day. But maybe "loved" was the appropriate term.

Roy looked like he wanted to be annoyed, but gave it up after a few moments. He reached over and ruffled Colin's hair back. "Yeah, I love you too."

 **XX**

They went by Phil Pacino's and worked on the '57 Nomad model for over an hour. While they worked, Phil talked about one thing after another. The Nomad led him to Chevrolets, Chevrolets led him to General Motors, and that seemed capable of leading him just about anywhere. And just like Stephen Rose, Phil seemed to know much more, and be capable of more intelligent conversation, than any of Colin and Roy's numerous other 'friends'.

Colin remembered, and Roy had confirmed, that despite all those 'friends' having surrounded them for years- they'd been outgoing and popular almost all their lives- Stephen and Phil were the only ones he and Roy took seriously. They were the only ones the twins actually saw as real friends.

Before they left, Roy gave Phil a small lecture about the importance of safely securing fire hazards, and how he should never play with matches if his parents weren't around.

Phil looked back at him quizzically. "What, so, I should only do it with Mom and Dad here? _They_ told me I shouldn't do it at _all_!"

"Oh, man," Roy said, groaning in frustration and turning away. He looked back suddenly, his eyes going between Phil and Colin. "Has he been teaching you that evil habit of his?"

"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," Phil said in his quiet, well-mannered voice, shutting his eyes and covering his ears with his hands. But after a few moments Colin started to laugh, giving himself away.

"You _did_!" Roy exclaimed. "Colin, you're gonna make Stephen and Phil wiseasses just like you, aren't you?"

"Stephen doesn't need any help," Colin laughed. Phil was giggling, seeming to be enjoying himself immensely. Roy just shook his head and sighed.

"Phil, seriously now. Can you promise me you'll be serious about safety and all when you're working down here?"

"I'm always serious," Phil replied, gazing back behind his thick eyeglasses.

"Well, promise me anyway."

"I promise," Phil said, then looked curiously at Roy. "Hey, come on. You know I've always been pretty careful. Was I being careless today or something?"

Roy paused as he got ready to head out the door with Colin. "No," Roy said. "I just want you to be careful."

"I will," Phil said.

"Thanks," Roy answered, and they headed out. "See you."

"See you later, guys. Thanks for coming by."

 **XX**

"Hey, what was that about?" Colin asked when they'd pedaled away from the house.

"Just me telling Phil to be careful."

"I thought- I dunno-"

Roy glanced over at him. "You thought what?"

"Well… I- it's kinda seemed like you don't really like him or Steve."

"What makes you say that?"

"Just how you look at 'em, how you talk to 'em sometimes."

"I like 'em okay, I guess. It's been pretty weird talking to guys who used to be dead."

"Then what's the deal?"

"Maybe I don't trust them," Roy admitted.

"Why wouldn't you?" Colin asked as they rode. "I can't think of a single reason."

"That's probably because you never knew them in our old life."

"This comes from that?"

"Sure."

"What'd they do?"

"They turned on me. They stabbed me in the back, Colin. After that, I couldn't trust them anymore."

"So… you stopped talking to them? You guys weren't friends anymore?"

Roy shrugged. "I guess you could say that. I stopped things pretty quick. I can't be around people I can't trust."

"So… why the talk with Phil, then?" Colin asked, still curious.

They reached a stop sign, waiting for a big stream of cars, trucks, and RVs to go by. Tons of them were clearly tourist cars, people in a big hurry to come to a coastal town like Santa Leona, frantically trying to squeeze in a little more leisure time before school started and relax, relax, relax.

Roy glanced at Colin.

"Okay, fine. I don't trust them, _and_ I don't like them."

"So why've you been hanging out with them, then?"

"Because I know _you_ do."

Colin felt pretty flattered at hearing that. All these constant reminders that Roy didn't just like but actually loved him were amazing and wonderful, but also very embarrassing. Colin sometimes still felt like he was nobody, that he just wasn't worth all the time Roy was spending on him.

As they got going again, crossing the street on the way to Stephen's house, Colin thought of another question he wanted to ask.

"Hey, Roy."

"Yeah."

"Can you think about trying to like them, then? Maybe trust 'em, too?" He quickly added, "They'll earn it if you just let 'em. I'm sure of it."

Roy gave him an appraising look. "Maybe you should be more careful who you trust, Colin. Not everybody's as good as they seem."

Colin hesitated. "Well… they seem pretty good to me." He looked pleadingly at Roy, not sure how else to say it. "Can you at least _think_ about it?"

Roy finally nodded. "I already am."

Smiling in relief, Colin gave his brother a grateful look. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

As they neared the final mile or so before they reached Stephen Rose's house, Colin looked at Roy. "Hey, Roy."

"Yeah?"

"Race you."

 **XX**

Stephen's dad- a big, heavyset man with strong arms and a round belly, in contrast to his slim, lightweight son- let them in with a welcoming smile. His Southern upbringing was given away by the way he stretched out his greeting, drawling "Why, afternoon, boys!"

"Hey, Mr. Rose," Roy said, waving and holding up a hand.

"Afternoon, sir," Colin said.

"No need for that 'sir', stuff," Mr. Rose said, waving a hand. "I got enough of that in the Corps. Roy, I thought I told you to get your brother to stop calling me 'sir'."

"He's not Colin, _I_ am!" Roy exclaimed, pointing at Colin, then himself.

Quickly joining in, Colin shook his head. "Honestly, Mr. Rose, and you've known us all this time."

"My apologies, guys," Mr. Rose said sincerely. "It's just you guys look so much alike." He chuckled at his understatement. "Man, who'm I kiddin'? You two look _exactly_ alike!" Looking at Colin, he said, "Roy, do you think one of y'all could start wearing a hat or something? Help me out?"

"Sure," Colin said. Unable to help himself, he started grinning. "But first, I oughta tell you I'm not actually Roy. I'm Colin."

Mr. Rose looked puzzled for a moment. Then he chuckled, a loud, rumbling sound that came from deep within his sizable belly. "I'd say you two try that one on me about once or twice a year," he said.

"And it works, too," Colin said, grinning.

"I'm guessin' you boys wanted to see Stephen?"

"Assuming he hasn't joined the French Foreign Legion or something," Roy said, leaning in the doorway as they headed through to the kitchen.

"Nah, not that I know of," Mr. Rose said. "Go on up to his room, he should still be there. He was up pretty late last night."

 **XX**

Going up the steps to the upper floor of the house, Roy turned to Colin and put a finger to his lips. He crept quickly but silently to the end of the hall, where Stephen's door was open just a crack. He moved inside; Colin followed quickly enough to see it as Roy reached the sleeping form of Stephen Rose. He was out cold, snoring softly every few moments. Abruptly, Roy seized Stephen's ankles, yanked him out from under the covers, and turned him upside down.

"Hey! Wha-" Stephen exclaimed, thunking his head on the floor. "Ow!"

"Rise and shine!" Roy cried. "It's three in the afternoon!"

"Goway! Lemme _sleep_!"

"Hey, Colin," Roy called joyously, "the little homo's sleeping naked!"

Stephen's face turned as red as his hair, and he started flailing around, beating his fists uselessly against any part of Roy he could reach. "Dude, let me _go_! For Chrissakes, lemme put some _clothes_ on!"

"You should've _had_ clothes on!" Roy exclaimed gleefully. "Even _I_ sleep with my underwear!"

"And that's why I'm the big stud on campus and not you!" Stephen replied. "Sleeping with your _underwear_. What is that, some kind of accomplishment?"

"Oh, wow," Roy said. "I see what you did there."

Stephen twisted around and saw Colin leaning against the closed door.

"Hey, Colin. How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Colin said, fighting not to laugh.

"Can you get your twin to let me go?" Stephen said, keeping his voice remarkably casual. "I'm a little bit naked and I'd like to _do_ something about that, but I can't while I'm being held up by my ankles if you know what I mean."

"Jeez," Roy sighed, shaking his head. "Can you believe this guy?"

"C'mon, Roy," Colin said, laughing. "Let him go."

"Okay," Roy said, and released Stephen's ankles. He dropped the rest of the way to the floor with another thud.

"Ow!"

"You know, Steve," Colin said as Stephen scrambled to his feet, keeping a hand over his crotch, "that's a pretty cute butt you have."

"Man, what the hell," Stephen muttered. "You jocks are so homoerotic. Don't you guys know that?"

"Hey, horsing around in the locker room isn't the same as liking guys," Colin said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, sure," Stephen said, hurriedly throwing on a pair of briefs. "A bunch of naked muscular guys playing around with each other. That doesn't sound gay to you?"

"No," Roy said. "Because I'm not gay."

Stephen dramatically spun around, exaggerated astonishment on his face. "You're _not_?"

"Okay," Roy said calmly, "That's it." He started moving towards Stephen, who made a frightened noise and scrambled into his closet.

"I'm sorry, Roy, really! Seriously!"

Roy just grabbed Stephen, raising him effortlessly over his shoulders.

"I'll do anything," Stephen whimpered. "Roy, I swear, I didn't mean it like that."

Still not replying, Roy planted his feet about as far apart as his shoulders. Then he started raising and lowering Stephen methodically, using him like a weight to exercise his arms and shoulders. Pretty soon Stephen calmed down when he figured out what was going on, going limp and sighing. "Man, this just _keeps_ happening to me, doesn't it?"

"Sure does," Roy said, puffing a little as he got into it, pumping his muscles a bit harder as he passed ten reps with Stephen's weight of something over one hundred pounds.

"You really should watch that smart mouth of yours," Colin observed, grinning as he oversaw the proceedings.

" _You're_ one to talk," Stephen griped, batting suddenly at Roy's massive, rippling arms. "Hey, Muscles. You wanna put me down now?"

"Colin, you wanna do some reps?" Roy asked courteously, turning around.

"Sure," Colin said, trying not to crack up laughing. "Hand him over."

Stephen complained, but he cooperatively kept still as he was handed over. Colin put one hand under Stephen's chest, the other just above his crotch, and started raising and lowering him just behind Colin's head.

Unbelievable. This was just unbelievable. Here he was, lifting a boy who weighed over 100 pounds, and he felt like he weighed half that. His arms, his shoulders- they didn't mind the load at all, and in fact seemed delighted at the challenge, warming up quickly.

"Look, guys, this is great that you're staying fit," Stephen observed after Colin had been lifting him for about a minute. "But can you put me down sometime? I kind of need to go to the bathroom. And brush my teeth. And shower. And have… lunch… I guess."

"Man, what were you even _doing_ last night?" Roy asked incredulously.

"Oh, wouldn't _you_ like to know?" Stephen sassed back.

"Okay, Colin? Lift his smart ass for another five minutes, will you?"

"Sure thing," Colin said, puffing a little. And insane as it seemed to his mind, his body honestly felt up to the task.

"Wait, you're not really gonna _do_ it, are you? You're not serious, right?" Stephen asked, but Colin just went right on lifting. "Oh, my God, you're serious," Stephen said, in tones of realization and dread. "Okay, okay. Uh, I apologize. Really. I am… _so_ sorry. Like, if a guy's ever been sorry, it's me. Nobody sorrier than Stephen Rose right now, no, sir."

"Still being a smartass," Roy said, shaking his head. "How long you wanna stay up there, man?"

Five full minutes later- with Stephen babbling almost the whole time- the redhead actually began to complain. Finally, he said in a worried voice, "Colin, please, man. I'm about to lose it. Number one. Please let me go."

"Okay," Colin said reluctantly, carefully kneeling and setting Stephen down.

"Outta the way, outta the way," Stephen said, his voice strained, and he hurried past Roy, down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Roy and Colin watched him go, then looked at each other. Then they burst out laughing.

"Man," Roy said, wiping at his eyes, "I think I really did forget how funny he can be."

"We should get him lifting weights," Colin observed. "Then he'd be a better one for us."

"Nice, Colin," Roy laughed. But after a moment, Roy seemed to consider the idea more seriously. "Huh. Maybe we should."

"When I get _done_ in here," Stephen called from the bathroom, "There's some jocks who're gonna _pay_ for waking me up!"

"That mean you wanna wrestle?" Roy called back.

Silence for a few moments, then: "But I'm feeling generous, so- I'll let you off for today!"

* * *

 **A/N: The bit where Colin is talking with Roy, fiercely saying he's going to make Mrs. Borden "eat it", is closely borrowed from Stephen King's 1983 novel "Christine", in which the original lines are spoken by Arnie Cunningham. I thought it fit so I adapted some of that scene for use in this story. The line "The little homo's sleeping naked!" is borrowed from Pat Conroy's novel "The Great Santini", and its character Lieutenant Colonel "Bull" Meecham.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

They waited in Stephen's room for almost twenty minutes; the redhead had apparently been serious about wanting to take a shower and everything else. Roy and Colin passed the time by holding pushup contests, wrestling, and shooting the bull about football and girls some more.

The overwhelming shyness and embarrassment Colin would have ordinarily felt about those topics was quickly fading away. It wasn't just that Roy was being supportive, understanding, encouraging- and he _was_ all those things- but also that Colin Borden was just as comfortable with talking about them as Roy was. Colin didn't so much have to learn to talk about these kind of topics casually as remember that he already knew how.

While they talked, Roy got a rolled-up magazine out of his pocket, showing it to Colin and grinning. He held a finger to his lips. "A present for the little ginger," Roy said, unrolling the magazine and sliding it neatly under some clothes in one of Stephen's dresser drawers.

"Well, look at you," Colin observed; in spite of his customary way of sounding like a wiseass almost all the time, he was nonetheless highly impressed. Roy was giving Stephen a pretty valuable gift, one he had to do a lot of charming and persuading to be able to get. But then, the collection he and Colin had stashed away in their room argued that Roy- and probably Colin Borden, too- was very, very good at persuading.

"Just being nice," Roy said with a charming smile. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Sure." Colin smiled, glad to see Roy really was giving warming up to Stephen and Phil a shot. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

 **XX**

Stephen announced his return in his own inimitable fashion. He dramatically kicked the door open, posed in the doorway with his hands on his hips. To his credit, while there wasn't much to him, what Stephen Rose had was pretty much all muscle. Still, he was a pretty goofy picture, standing in a dramatic pose in his underwear. Colin and Roy took one surprised look at him and started laughing.

"What?" Stephen asked. "You think you're the only ones who look good in your underwear?"

"Stephen," Colin laughed, "Will you put some damn _clothes_ on?"

"Says the guy who practically never wears a shirt!"

The redhead did drop his pose, though, and went over to his dresser, getting some gym shorts, socks, and running shoes on.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Roy remarked, seeing that Stephen wasn't putting on a shirt.

"Man, it is hot as hell out there," Stephen replied. "I wanna keep as cool as possible." He paused, then winked and added, "Besides, the girls are just _dying_ for a look at Stephen Rose."

Colin and Roy laughed appreciatively. But as Stephen laced up his shoes and they headed out the door, Roy put a hand on the redhead's bony shoulder. "Wait a minute."

"What for?" Stephen asked.

"You said it's hot as hell outside," Roy said. "Well, it is. And we're gonna run at least a mile out and back." Stephen started to object, but Roy just went on, "You wanna get in shape, you gotta be serious, man. You can do it. It's 90% mental. But there is such a thing as overdoing it. If we're going too fast for you, tell us and we'll slow down. Don't kill yourself trying to keep up. And we're gonna drink some water before we go out. If you start feeling dizzy or weak while we're running, tell us immediately."

"Sure, Roy, I mean- no problem, man," Stephen said, looking a little puzzled. "Yeah. I'll do all that. Or, I will if I need to."

Roy nodded. "Good."

 **XX**

Colin looked curiously at Roy as he led them through some stretches and they got going, but Roy just shrugged. This was interesting. First a safety talk with Phil, then Steve. For a guy who'd said he neither liked nor trusted these two, Roy sure was trying to keep them alive and unharmed.

Maybe he was giving them a second chance- against whatever they'd done to him in the other life- and was just showing some good faith to encourage them. It was a nice contrast to the open suspicion and even anger he'd shown them at first. It was good to see.

They went on a run that wound up being a total of three miles; after running one mile out, they walked another half a mile. Then they turned around, walked half a mile back. Only then, after a leisurely walk for a break in between, did they run the final mile back.

By the time they were on the last quarter, Stephen Rose's pale, lean upper body was shining with sweat. It dripped off his face like rain, and his fatigue showed on his face.

"Feeling okay?" Colin asked.

"Fine," Stephen panted.

"Come on," Roy said, coming up on the redhead's other side. "Just keep it up. Keep it up, you're doing good."

"Don't slow down," Colin cautioned him. "Keep your pace. Come on, we're almost back."

"Oh, man," Stephen sighed. "Oh, Jesus. How'd I let you guys talk me into this?"

"It took about three minutes for me to talk you into this," Colin said.

"Don't remind me, please."

"What day is it?" Roy asked suddenly.

"Friday," Stephen answered.

"What month?"

"July."

"Year?" Colin prodded.

"1980. Christ, wanna know what _planet_ we're on?"

A few moments later, the redhead sighed wearily. "I have _gotta_ stop smoking."

Roy and Colin laughed together. Managing to keep his sense of humor, and answering the fact questions accurately, Stephen Rose was doing fine. He was gonna be hurting tomorrow, but he'd be fine today.

As they neared his house, Roy cast a look at his twin. "Race you?"

"Sure," Colin said, and they both shot forward as if blasted from a cannon. In barely ten seconds they covered the remaining distance, legs and arms pumping and hearts pounding. Adrenaline coursed through Colin, and as he beat Roy over the sidewalk and into the front yard, the rush only got better. Colin could hardly believe what he'd been missing before. The adrenaline high of working out and playing sports, the excitement of competition, the incredible self-confidence and the exultation of winning.

There was just nothing like being an athlete.

 **XX**

"Yes!" Colin shouted, raising his fists high, turning around and grinning as Roy raced up, less than a second behind. But Roy was grinning too, laughing and pounding on Colin's back. "Look at you, man!" he yelled. " _Look_ at you! Having fun yet or what?"

"What do you think?" Colin shouted back. He could hardly think of a time when he'd been so happy, been enjoying himself so thoroughly. He'd just beaten _Roy Borden_ in a foot race! Life didn't get much better than this!

Then Stephen Rose surprised them both by flying onto the lawn, gasping and red-faced, but by Colin's estimate only arriving a handful of seconds behind the twins.

The redhead had taken off after them when they did. And he'd done a better job of going after them than Colin Jacobs _ever_ could have.

Stephen staggered his way to a stop, then immediately doubled over, puffing and wheezing. "Oh, damn, dude. I thought it was my _Dad_ joined the Marines."

Roy and Colin looked at each other, then at him.

"So. You wanna do this again sometime?" Roy asked.

Stephen walked slowly over and sat down on the front steps, breathing hard. "Sure. Why not."

"Look," Colin said suddenly, "I should've said- I mean, we're not trying to turn you into a jock."

"Don' worry 'bout that," Stephen said, waving it away. "Oh, I should. Never. Have done that. Thing. I just did."

Roy laughed, smiling, shaking his head, and staring at Stephen in wonder. "Colin, man, this kid is just like you. Full of surprises, never gives up-" he shrugged. "Too bad Steve's gay. He's pretty cool apart from that."

"Fuck. You." Stephen said, trying to sound fierce and gasp for air like a fish at the same time. He wound up wheezing as he also tried to laugh, which just cracked Colin and Roy up.

"Just carry me inside, guys," Stephen said after a minute. "I'm gonna sleep 'till next week."

 **XX**

After resting for a little while, and drinking water at a steady rate at Roy's direction, the three of them sat around on the bean bag chairs in Stephen's room.

While they were talking about cars again- a big thing with Stephen- Colin thought of something. Even with a pause for a few moments' search of his new memories, he could come up with no recollection of Mrs. Rose. He couldn't think of a time when he'd even seen her.

"Hey, Stephen," Colin asked at a pause in the conversation, "When do I get to meet your Mom?"

Stephen stiffened up and looked back at him, and right away Colin realized he'd made a grave social error.

"Mom passed away eight years ago," Stephen said in a tight, quiet voice.

Colin glanced at Roy, hoping for answers, but Roy just stared silently back, shrugging and spreading his hands hopelessly. His wide-eyed expression said he was just as taken aback as his twin.

"Stephen, I'm so sorry," Colin said, and he meant every syllable. "I should've- I mean, I never-"

"I never told you guys," Stephen choked out. "Guess I was gonna have to sometime."

"Why?" Colin asked, curiosity momentarily overriding his guilt over his blunder. "You didn't have to tell us anything."

"No, I should've," Stephen said, shaking his head. "It's what you do with best friends."

Colin felt pleased and shamed at the same time, and it occurred to him that he was already taking for granted how strong and good-looking he was, how other boys his age must envy him as often as girls turned their heads when he walked by. Stephen had just said outright what he'd shown more than once before; he practically worshipped Colin and Roy, and probably longed to be like them just the way Colin had once longed to be like Roy.

The once-bespectacled fourteen-year-old was thinking all this through, trying to come up with something suitable to say in response, when Roy's stomach gave a loud, long gurgle. Seconds later, Colin's answered with a low, hungry growl.

The twins looked at each other's identical faces, grinned and laughed. Stephen burst out laughing, clutching his sides and shaking his head. He fell off his bean-bag chair and rolled around on the floor, tears leaking out of his shut eyelids.

"Stephen," Roy asked hesitantly, "are you okay, man, or do we need to, you know, call someone in a white coat?"

"Does he _normally_ do this?" Colin asked.

"I don't think so," Roy answered, continuing to eyeball Stephen as if unsure of the redhead's mental health.

"You-you should've _seen_ yourselves," Stephen gasped finally. "Same face, same big muscles- even your _stomachs_ are copies!" He laughed some more. "Man, it was just too funny!"

Helping him up, Colin looked at him oddly. "Stephen, are you okay?"

"I think my legs are gonna be dead tomorrow, but sure."

"No, look- I mean, I'm sorry. About what I said." Colin had to get it out; he didn't want any bad feelings to linger from his mistake.

Sobering up some, Stephen smiled nonetheless. "Colin," he said, "it's okay, man. I promise." Heading for the door, Stephen added, "Let's all three of us take a shower, huh? Then I'll put a shirt on and stop making you guys look like wimps."

Colin and Roy, who could bench-press, maybe even dead-lift, as much as twice Stephen's weight, just smiled. Colin couldn't resist adding, "Shower? All three of us? Man, Stephen, I know me and my brother are gorgeous, but that's kind of incest, you know- if all three of us-"

"You be quiet!" Stephen ordered with mock-sternness. "It isn't like that!"

"Are you sure?" Roy asked.

"Yes!" Stephen declared. "Anyway, let's hurry up. Once we're not all sweaty anymore, I'll go downstairs and ask Dad about dinner. He knows you guys are big eaters so he'll probably be cooking plenty."

Colin smiled, thinking about the last time he'd been over here for an afternoon like this. Mr. Rose was a chef of some accomplishment, and his skill with cooking and grilling was impressive. For growing boys, especially a pair of lifelong athletes like Colin and Roy, it was heaven, getting to have all the masterfully-cooked hot dogs and cheeseburgers they wanted, among many other options. It sure beat whatever Mom and Dad bothered to give them.

While Stephen showered again, Colin and Roy talked some more. Girls came up yet again; Colin was happily reminded of the fact that he had a lot of prospects waiting for him when school started, and even some chances to mess around now. Roy talked eagerly of his plan to get them laid.

"You know," he said, "we really do look exactly alike. This offers us some options."

"Oh, yeah?" Colin said, doing his sixtieth pushup on the floor while Roy did some sit-ups. "Like what?"

"We could switch classes, talk to teachers- pretend to be the other," Roy said. "But the best thing I can think of? Well, say one of us knows in advance he's gonna get it from a girl. He tells the other, we both go to wherever we'll be doing it. The first one fucks her for a while, and the other one hides. Then we switch."

"Okay," Colin said, nodding. "Just remember to answer to Colin while you're banging her."

"Colin," Roy said in amazement, "I think I just heard you say 'banging'."

"Sure did."

"Nice, man," Roy said, grinning. "You're learning."

"So when one of us gets a girl," Colin said, genuinely curious, "We're gonna _share_ her?"

"Sure."

"Isn't that kinda rude?"

"Dude, we'll each blow her socks off. With the two of us switching when we're out of the room, she'll be telling her friends how we never, ever run out of steam. It's what you want a girl saying about us, trust me." Roy paused, looking at Colin. "Unless you really don't wanna share. I guess I can drop it if you really want."

Colin hesitated, then shrugged. "No. That's okay." He'd never before even heard of this idea- of 'sharing' a girl as if she were some kind of toy. It actually felt distinctly unpleasant to Colin; he liked the idea of making some progress with girls, but this was something else. This seemed like you weren't even trying to treat the girl like somebody who mattered. You were just… using her. And letting the boy who shared your face use her.

But something Colin was holding fast to, even if he didn't care for every _single_ aspect of certain ideas Roy brought up or plans he proposed, was that he was not going to do anything to make Roy feel he couldn't trust his new twin. Roy was offering Colin so much, offering him his friendship and trust without hesitation. The one thing he'd wanted most, out of all the things he could've said, was to be brothers with Colin. The former Jacobs boy felt a need to respond to that, to show Roy he'd been right to place so much faith in him.

There was something else, too. Colin felt driven to start embracing his new life more every day, felt like adopting his 'new' habits and past-times instead of holding onto his old ones. He remembered his old life with a kind of horror now, and was deep down feeling a certain terror that any day now, any second, this would all just end and he'd be back in it. Needing glasses to see correctly past three feet. Having thin muscles that, if they did draw looks, also drew laughter. All those awkward mannerisms, no athletic talent… and no girls. He'd be back to having nothing except a mom who worked all the time, a dad with whom he had nothing in common, and a lot of books, which, as much as Colin loved them, were just not able to compare to all the wonderful things he was and had now.

Colin felt driven to embrace everything- even the bad, if he had to- about his new life, to cling to it because he had no way of knowing if it wouldn't suddenly be over. But if it didn't- and it was Colin's most fervent wish that it never would- he wanted to forget his old life about as quick as he could. It had taken some time, but Colin was beginning to really understand Roy's repeated declaration that "There was nothing before." Nothing worth remembering anyway, or going back to.

Except for one thing. Colin Jacobs had possessed something that drew Roy Borden to him, made that awesome, immensely popular boy want to be not only his best friend, but his brother. Whatever that was- and Colin remained convinced that only Roy could really see it, if it was even really there at all- Colin needed to hold onto that.

Colin was still bothered by the knowledge that he and Roy had killed together- apparently for 'fun'. He was a little creeped out by the way Roy talked so casually about rape. And it was especially unnerving to recall those moments where he'd suddenly started having a rush of thoughts and feelings that were totally alien to Colin, yet seemed strangely familiar. Like he'd had such thoughts and feelings in this life- that they too, right along with the strong eyes and powerful muscles, were a part of who he was as Roy's twin brother.

 _It'll be easy_ , Colin told himself calmly. _I'll talk to Roy, work those things out. No matter what's happened to us before, we can solve what it did to us_.

But no matter what happened- no matter what Roy said or did- Colin was going to make sure they stayed on the same team. If they had a problem, he'd solve it with Roy in private. But Colin was pretty lost in this new world, and he had only one person he still knew he could trust. Roy had been so generous, so helpful, since the first moments of the transition. He had embraced Colin as his twin sibling immediately, welcoming him into his home and into his life. It was startling and touching, all at the same time. Colin could already tell he was starting to love Roy as a brother, rather than just a best friend.

Roy was never anything but warm and friendly to Colin, was always ready to offer advice or answer questions, and gladly helped Colin work away from his old social awkwardness and towards the confidence he'd apparently had now. Roy had his flaws, had things inside him that maybe weren't so good. Colin wasn't about to let that come between them. He wasn't going to let his brother down. The very idea was unbearable.

 **XX**

Stephen returned and gamely joined Colin for some pushup and situp contests while Roy showered. The lanky redhead lost badly every time; Colin quickly found his immense reserves of strength were barely even tapped in the handfuls of reps he knocked out. He had fun talking with Stephen, though, and was impressed again by how Stephen just tried his best and didn't much let anything else bother him. The redhead seemed surprisingly eager to take advice Colin offered- and he surprised himself with how much he had- about exercising properly.

Colin was also happy that in all this time since he'd 'begun' to be Colin Borden, neither Stephen Rose nor Philip Pacino had said a word to him and Roy about the scars on their backs. Colin was absolutely unwilling to talk about it with anybody but Roy, and could tell just from thinking about it that even Steve and Phil would be straying into unfriendly territory if they asked him about the scars with any persistence. It was good, then, that they clearly had enough sense to not go prying. That, or they had already tried and been rebuked by Colin, Roy, or both of them together. Either way, they left the topic alone despite the twins practically never wearing a shirt.

That was still a source of great enjoyment for Colin. Everywhere he went, girls from his age on up to college age turned to get a second look at him. Him- Colin! He was a stud in this life, and loving every minute of it. Thinking about that just made Colin feel even more certain that he could handle any of the downsides of this life, any at all, because the upsides were so good.

Roy returned just as Colin was talking Stephen out of competing anymore today. The redhead was tired, very tired, but he just kept pushing himself more, no matter how much his face or trembling muscles showed the strain.

"C'mon, you just don't wanna get beat," Stephen panted, sitting on the floor across from Colin. "You know it's coming."

"Not today it isn't," Roy said as he walked in. "Colin, is Steve here trying to kill himself again?"

"Second time today."

Roy shook his head. "Steve, man, you need to slow down. Your whole body is gonna be in so much pain tomorrow. You're gonna be sore as shit."

"Okay," Steve shrugged, then promptly flopped over and balled up on the floor. "Naptime."

Colin and Roy looked at each other, surprised and amused yet again. "He does this all the time," Roy said, as Colin gave him a questioning look.

"Figures."

 **XX**

Colin took his time with the shower. He really took his time. He undressed quickly enough, but then felt obligated to stop and admire himself, head to toes, for at least ten minutes. He had a hot, luxurious shower, cleaning off all the sweat and grime from today, and then went on and admired himself some more as he dried off. He took a look at it all, at this awesome, fit body he had, and smiled. Better eyes, bigger muscles, a more handsome face, and a larger cock. With all this, the last one especially, no wonder Roy had always been so confident. Colin could feel his confidence and self-esteem growing every day, and looking at himself in the mirror never failed to make him smile.

It was _good_ being Colin Borden.

Roy, to Colin's surprise, was talking amiably with Stephen when he returned to the redhead's room. They appeared to be getting along just fine, and that made Colin smile, too.

Stephen- who had finally put on a shirt- looked up as Colin came in. "My Dad says dinner's gonna be ready soon."

Now Colin grinned.

 **XX**

Dinner at Stephen's house couldn't have possibly been more different than what Colin was already getting used to. Instead of being in a house where the parents and offspring barely talked to each other, Colin found Stephen and his father constantly interacting. Mr. Rose's easygoing nature, his casual yet unmistakable confidence, was combined with a wonderful sense of humor. He was talkative and engaging, seeming to be interested in learning as much as he could about things he was less than familiar with, and eager to talk about interests he found he shared with others.

Stephen's father was also a damn good, all-American cook. Even with their enormous, high-protein appetites, Colin and Roy found themselves with more than enough hot dogs, hamburgers, cheeseburgers, grilled chicken and corn on the cob to satisfy. Stephen went after the food with surprising gusto, too- he might have been a lightweight, especially next to Colin and Roy, but he wasn't far behind in how much he ate.

Mr. Rose offered no complaints about neither Colin nor Roy wearing a shirt; the burly man clearly was not someone to stand on ceremony. Colin liked him immediately, and that was before he remembered he already did. He was a wonderful contrast to the uptight, self-absorbed man and woman that posed as Colin and Roy's 'parents'. Mr. Rose actually paid attention to his son and was welcoming to his friends.

"So, Stephen says you boys might be getting some playing time with the varsity team this fall," Mr. Rose remarked, as the conversation turned towards football.

"That's right," Roy said. "We still have to go through tryouts-"

"-which we're gonna walk through," Colin interjected.

"But once we make the JV team, yeah, Coach Molinoff says the chances are pretty good that Penneman will give us some time on the field this season."

"Well, the shape you boys are in, I don't think tryouts will be any problem," Mr. Rose said. "A football player needs to be in the best shape he can be, to stand up to whatever his coach and the other team throw at 'im. Not too different from being a Marine, come to think."

"I've thought about becoming a Marine," Colin spoke up, remembering suddenly.

Right on the heels of that, though, came a violent and jarring thought. Alien, unfamiliar, but unmistakably from the mind of Colin Borden.

 _That'll mean getting to kill and be rewarded for it. It's like a fuckin' dream come true, man. I won't even need a fucking war. If there's no war me and Roy, we'll just do it anyway. Slice the neck of some cute high school kid in town, watch his jugular go, spurting all that red…_

Colin shifted in his seat, abruptly becoming very uncomfortable with the pleasure he felt pulsing through him. Even worse was the realization that there was hard iron between his legs.

 _Thinking about killing, and blood- it gives me a_ boner? Colin found the idea repulsive and horrifying, but he had no time to dwell on it. He just had no time, because just as he began really struggling with all this, Stephen drew him back to the conversation.

"C'mon, Colin, you could join the Marines right _now_."

"He's not Colin," Roy exclaimed, " _I_ am!"

"What? Huh?" Stephen said, visibly startled.

"And you've known us all these years," Colin said reprovingly, shaking his head at the lanky redhead.

"Uh, s-sorry, Roy," Stephen said, looking at Colin apologetically.

"Colin," Roy sighed in dismay, "do you think he'll ever figure us out?"

"I think this is the first time we've gotten 'em both on the first day in a while, Roy," Colin said casually.

Strands of Stephen's red hair flew back and forth on his forehead as he jerked back and forth between them. Gradually, the realization that he'd been fooled began dawning on his face.

"Aw, not again," he said, and put his face in his hands in exaggerated despair. Just as Colin and Roy started laughing, Mr. Rose joined in. Suddenly Stephen snapped his head up.

"Dad, they got you first! They did! Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I figured this'd be more fun," Mr. Rose said matter-of-factly, and he grinned as Colin and Roy went on laughing.

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Stephen exclaimed over the laughter, "Whatever it is I did, I'm sorry already!"

 **XX**

They hung out in Stephen's room for a while after that. Disturbed by his latest episode of violent, sadistic thoughts- which seemed as old and familiar to his Borden-self as any friend- Colin withdrew into himself somewhat, trying to work things out. He let Roy do most of the talking, but participated often enough that it didn't seem awkward.

Lying on his bed, sleep already calling to him as his eyes drooped, Stephen said, "I'm so glad I did this. Thanks for keeping up with me, guys. Maybe we can really go for a run next time."

"One day," Colin said, "I hope I can be as fit as Stephen Rose is."

"Me, too," Roy said, grinning. "All this muscle and it's just not enough."

 **XX**

Finally, with great reluctance, Colin and Roy had to get headed home. As they headed out the door of Stephen's room, Roy pulled out a drawer on Stephen's dresser. "Got you a new book, Steve."

"Huh?"

"You'll like it," Roy assured him. "It's very… relaxing. Lots of pictures. Really nice ones."

Realizing, Stephen suddenly turned pink and started rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… thanks… Wow. I mean, so, I guess you're not mad at me anymore?"

"Who said I was mad at you?"

"Well- nobody," Stephen said awkwardly. It's just- uh- well. I've, you know, I've known you guys for a couple years, and we've always been getting along."

"Sounds about right," Colin remarked, searching his new memories again to confirm it.

"So, couple weeks ago, Colin starts being even nicer to me than he normally is. And Roy, well, you've been acting the opposite. Like I did something you _really_ didn't like."

"Maybe I've been pissed because you stabbed me in the back in an alternate life, and that's kinda hard to let go of."

Stephen stared at Roy for a few moments, then at Colin, then back to Roy again. Finally he cracked up laughing. "Get the fuck outta here, Roy!"

Roy grinned, looking at Colin. "Did you see 'im, Colin? I almost _had_ him!"

Colin was grinning too, enjoying the moment. He'd been enjoying this entire day, this whole wonderful afternoon spent at the Rose house. And he was enjoying seeing the very real possibility that Roy was seriously thinking of judging Stephen Rose and Philip Pacino on who they were now- and not on who they'd been before.

"Man," Stephen laughed as he stood in his doorway, "You go home and think up a better story than that, Roy!" He waved his hands around. "Some _alternate dimension_ , huh, guys? That's good!"

 **XX**

"Have a good night, boys- and a safe ride home," Mr. Rose said as he saw them out the door. Stephen had finally calmed down and gone back to his room, still chuckling a little.

"Thanks, Mr. Rose," Roy said. "You're an awesome cook."

"There's none better," Colin agreed.

"Well, you boys can come by and have some more of it any time," Mr. Rose said magnanimously. "Glad you enjoyed it."

As they started out the door, Mr. Rose called after them, "Oh, by the way- best of luck at tryouts, Roy and Colin." He grinned. "Not like you'll _need_ it, playin' football all your lives."

Together, Colin and Roy each turned back and grinned at Mr. Rose. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Rose," Roy said. "We appreciate it."

 **XX**

It was after midnight when they got home. Colin knew they were breaking the law by staying out that late so often, but he found the once-overpowering urge to caution Roy about it remarkably easy to suppress and ignore. He drew on that growing sense of reckless abandon that Roy seemed to live so much of his life with, and did his best to simply not give a damn. Colin found himself feeling pretty good about how well he succeeded.

They talked and joked all the way back, Colin eagerly asking questions about football, girls, cars, the beach- and sharing a grin with Roy as they each wondered aloud if Stephen was enjoying his new 'book' just yet.

"So I guess you had a good day, huh?" Roy said, smiling at his brother as they put their bikes away.

"I did," Colin nodded, grinning happily. "I can't wait for tryouts. I can't wait to go to the beach." His grin widened. "I just can't _wait_!"

Roy grinned back. "You don't know how happy it makes me to see you like this. You really don't."

"Oh, come on."

"I was never as happy before as I am now. Having you as my brother is a goddamn popper."

Colin blushed and turned away. "Jeez."

"I'm serious. I think I'd rather die than go back to living without a twin."

Colin turned around and looked at Roy in the dark. He was flattered, honored, totally mystified. "Why do I mean so much to you?"

Roy reached up and ruffled Colin's hair, a gesture that continued to delight Colin, like it had since the earliest days he could remember. "Because you deserve it," Roy said simply. "I can see what an awesome guy you really are, Colin. Even if no one else can. Sometime you'll start believing how awesome you are too."

"I'll just be learning it from you."

"Nah. We've both been this cool, always." He paused, grinning at Colin. "How's it feel knowing that?"

Colin reached over and ruffled Roy's blond hair, that wavy gold that was just one of many things Colin had always envied about him. Now he had it too- had everything Roy had, plus even bigger, stronger muscles. Thinking of that at the end of such a great day, Colin found it very easy to grin, and he felt yet another rush of affection for Roy, his brother.

"Feels pretty good," Colin said honestly. "Now let's get inside."

They wandered up to the house, joshing each other about how somebody must have stolen all of their shirts- and grinning as they agreed that it really didn't matter. Colin felt bursting with pride at how damn good he looked now, how fit he was, how confident it made him feel. He wouldn't have traded it for anything.

Just as Colin was reaching for the back door's brass knob, Roy held out a hand and stopped him.

"Huh?" Colin said, startled. "What?"

"There's a note here," Roy murmured, taking down the piece of paper that was nailed to the door.

 _Colin and Roy,_

 _The house is a complete mess. It looks like nothing has been cleaned here at all for a month. You need to learn the value of hard work, and doing a job right the first time. You will need to repeat all the chores on the list today, and I will have a new list set out for you just like always. That will need to be done too before you go anywhere. If this issue is not resolved soon, you will not have my or your father's signature on the forms you'll need to enter tryouts and join your football team._

 _Mom._

Colin just stared at it blankly.

"Welcome home," Roy said wearily.

"She's always been like this," Colin said, sighing heavily.

Roy nodded, staring down at the piece of paper in his hand. "Always." After a few moments, he shrugged deliberately. "Fuck her. Nothing's gonna stop me from playing football. We'll do what we gotta do. Not for her, but for us."

"Yeah," Colin nodded. He didn't say it- couldn't, in spite of what he'd blurted out the other night- but right then, standing there looking at that spiteful little note, Colin felt like dropping his shorts to his ankles and taking a piss on his mother's precious, flawlessly-manicured lawn.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Spending their mornings slaving away around the house, and their afternoons at the marina, the boardwalk shops, or the beach, Colin and Roy did their best to enjoy the remaining days of summer break as much as possible. Colin had trouble remembering how to act sometimes; his shy, awkward introvert self remained even if no one but he and Roy remembered him. But his moments of awkwardness, or surprise at all the attention and respect he was getting, seemed to be taken either as acting, or were otherwise covered and glossed over by Roy.

Colin remained in awe of who he was now physically. Merely walking places, standing in front of mirrors, he could never seem to resist squeezing a thick, heavily-muscled bicep with one hand, running his eyes down his front from his slab-like chest to his chiseled six-pack. It made heads turn everywhere he went; girls with interest, guys with both admiration and envy.

His twin brother seemed to forever delight in helping him learn who he was now; they played "Remember That?" on a daily basis. The two boys would pit themselves against each other in contests of speed and strength, and were the center of attention anytime they chose to do so publicly. Guys their age were always inviting them to join basketball or volleyball games, and surfer boys Colin didn't know were complimenting him on his and Roy's skills with a board. Colin, this Colin, had been an athlete all his life. He delighted in competition, in physical challenges. He was a born fighter- just like the boy he shared his face with.

Roy had time for Colin on anything. They would spend hours working on recovering Colin Borden's memory, and Colin found it exciting to remember some interest he'd always had, or something he had always loved doing. As a fourteen-year-old alpha male, Colin Borden had apparently shared Roy's almost obsessive interest in sex and anything to do with it; Roy wanted to talk about it all the time. He got a glow in his eyes when he discussed his master plan.

"First semester of high school, Colin. This is as long as I'm gonna wait," Roy said, as they were lying out on a remote section of beach after dark one night, safely hidden from prying eyes. Their parents didn't much care where they went, or whether or not they observed the midnight curfew. So they had all the time in the world.

"Still thinking about rape?" Colin asked, a little uneasy inside.

"Who said I was?"

"I mean, if some girl says no- what if we get to December and your plan hasn't worked?"

"We won't," Roy said calmly. "We won't, Colin."

"But would you rape a girl if the plan was gonna fail otherwise?"

Roy paused, looking up at the night sky with his hands folded behind his head.

"I think you want me to."

Colin turned and stared at his twin in shock. "What?"

"You want it to come to that."

"No, I don't!"

"Colin, you keep asking me. I never said anything about rape. Just pussy."

His tongue was a lot looser these days when topics like this came up, but Colin still got to feeling awkward as hell sometimes. He felt heat creeping up his neck, and he was unable to think of any reply. It was true, he'd been the one to ask if Roy had rape in mind. But he was asking out of concern, not because he wanted it to happen. That was why. Right?

The things Colin Borden wanted, and the things Colin Jacobs wanted, didn't seem entirely the same. Some of it wasn't all Boy Scout stuff, either.

Roy suddenly reached over, and gently but firmly put a strong arm around Colin's broad, muscular shoulders as the two boys lay on their backs in the sand, wind blowing gently around them, waves hitting the beach on the dark and going back out again.

"Colin, you need to lose this awkwardness with talking about sex. Just say it. Say pussy."

"Pussy."

"Say, I want to get my dick wet."

Colin hesitated, face burning hotter than ever. "I-I wanna get my dick wet."

"I'm gonna empty my balls into a hot piece of ass before Christmas break."

Colin said that, too.

Roy kept it up, having Colin repeat various words or phrases, and Colin's embarrassment only worsened as he steadily realized he had an erection. All this talk was making him think of things, bring up memories of kisses, touching forbidden places and longing to do more than touch while wearing clothes. Colin suddenly was back behind the Pit, his and Roy's favourite hangout in town.

Making out with this beautiful girl, a blonde like him- her hand rubbing the crotch of his jeans while they kissed, mouths open, tongues dancing together. Colin remembered how sly and clever he'd been, how hard he'd tried to get farther. What he wanted most was for the damn clothes to come off- for a blowjob, right there in the alley, or to lie her down on the cooling bricks and just fuck. Instead, a couple weeks ago, that girl- part of some tourist family from out of town- had refused to let Colin even get a hand under her shirt, and to his embarrassment and fury, he'd ejaculated in his shorts.

The ecstasy of that moment, combined with his secret rage at being denied what he'd wanted most- it was incredible how well Colin remembered it. And how uncomfortable he was about it. Colin didn't want to rape anyone. He didn't even want sex as bad as Roy did. To Colin, who still vividly remembered a life without any dates or romantic progress at all, anything- even holding hands- was something worth enjoying, savoring for every moment it lasted.

Roy didn't seem to see it that way.

His twin broke the silence, squeezing his brother's shoulders.

"Recovering some memories?"

"Yeah," Colin admitted.

"Sexy stuff?"

"Making out behind the Pit."

"You'll be doing it again soon. Trust me."

Colin had to admit, that sounded pretty nice.

"What about if one of us…" Colin hesitated, then said it. Made himself say it. "What if one of us fucks a girl?"

"Well, then, good for him," Roy said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I mean- you know- are we still gonna… share?"

Colin realized he felt both anxious and, for some reason, hopeful. Anxious because he wasn't exactly eager to let Roy pretend to be him and screw some girl he was with. Hopeful because, maybe, Colin Borden was hoping not to be left out if his brother went all the way before he did.

Roy turned to look at him.

"You sound interested in that too, Colin."

"I'm not."

"Sure sounds like it."

"Come on."

"I can hear it in your voice."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are we?"

Roy laughed softly. "Colin, we can pretend to be each other anytime you want. That's just one possibility. We could go to each other's classes, wear each other's uniforms at practice…" he trailed off, smiling as he returned to looking up at the stars. "You and me, we can do anything, Colin."

It continued to amaze Colin- to defy even his considerable knowledge of words- that Roy saw so much in him. He blushed, grateful that Roy couldn't see him. When Roy eventually withdrew his arm, Colin instinctively put his own around Roy's equally strong, well-muscled shoulders. Roy gave him a slightly curious look for a moment, but soon smiled and returned to stargazing beside his brother.

 **XX**

The days continued to pass easily enough. Colin found he could barely stand life at home; the longer he lived there, the more he wanted to be anyplace else. Delight at all the friends and dating prospects he seemed to have, all the respect and admiration he got from adults he apparently knew, gave Colin even more reason not to stay cooped up in the house.

As the end of his first month as Colin Borden neared, Colin realized he had spent more time riding on his bike, surfing, swimming, and playing games at the beach, and going around shirtless wherever he went in the past twenty-eight days than ever before in his life. He was hardly ever alone anymore; he and Roy went everywhere together, and Colin vividly remembered the distress they both felt anytime someone tried to take them apart, right back to the earliest memories he had.

His old instincts and well-traveled paths seemed to be fading a little more every day. The old Colin would have been unable to handle the sudden flood of extroverted, outgoing behavior. All the attention, the sudden, near-constant participation in athletic activities, would have been too much. Colin Jacobs would have instinctively sought the safety and solitude of the library, a place he and Roy still visited- but far less than the old Colin did.

And it went without saying that Colin Jacobs, a skinny, shy boy who feared sunburn and drawing attention to himself in equal measure, would have had nothing to do with all this going just about everywhere in July with his shirt off.

The spurts of confidence and boldness that Colin had were coming to seem a little less inexplicable and odd, and a little more like what was normal. Not for Colin Jacobs, not at all. It was all still a bit much, and probably would be for a while. But Colin found himself secretly delighted, many days, at this chance to ditch his short-sighted, quiet, bookworm existence and live this new, exciting, popular and athletic life, the life of Roy Borden.

And every day, wherever he went and whatever he did, Colin had Roy there, the boy whose face he now shared, always ready to help. Roy never once hesitated, never complained at any moments of difficulty or uncertainty Colin had. When Colin accidentally tried to think of what he'd done on a past day as Colin Jacobs and Colin Borden, and the ensuing migraine caused him such agony, Roy looked after him like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do. He explained anything Colin needed to ask about, and eagerly worked with him on continuing to restore active memory of his life as Roy's twin.

As August drew near, so did football tryouts. It became an increasingly-regular topic while the twins were hanging out with Steve and/or Phil somewhere. Conditioning themselves for the enormous physical and mental stresses of football drove Roy, and a more nervous, uncertain Colin, to push themselves every time they went out on a run, held workout sessions in Steven Rose's backyard, anything. Steve continued to surprise and impress Roy with his eagerness to just about kill himself trying to keep up with the immensely strong, fit Borden twins.

When asked, Steve said he had no interest in trying out for the football team- he was hopeless at it, and was only spared from nearly all laughter and mockery in gym class because everyone knew he was best friends with Colin and Roy. He tended to get evasive when asked what his reason was, then, but Colin's guess was that Steve wanted to better himself- to get into much better shape, maybe to help make an impression when he started high school in a few weeks- and that he saw the Borden twins as a means of making sure he did it right, since Steven knew next to nothing about weight rooms or fitness overall.

There continued to be awkward moments when Roy was seen staring coldly at Steve or Phil when he thought neither of them was looking, or when he would snap harshly at them or let a joke made by one of them fall flat. His knowledge that Colin didn't like it, and that he wanted Roy to give them another chance regardless of what had happened in his old life, did seem to be helping- if nothing else, Colin also often saw Roy giving Steve and Phil hard, speculative looks, like he was trying to make up his mind about them.

Colin did his best to look and seem casual about the tryouts coming up. He valiantly pretended that he was feeling prepared for tryouts for a team that played a sport he knew almost nothing about. Maybe his efforts worked a little too well, because Roy didn't seem to be giving the matter any special attention, just talking about it a lot, but with the apparent assumption that Colin already knew the basics.

When he finally voiced his concerns to Roy, on July 31st- the night before tryouts- Roy said he was worrying too much about it. "You're Colin Borden, remember that. You've been playing football all your life. You know what you're doing. You'll be fine."

"You're not nervous?" Colin asked curiously, stretched out in his bunk, just like Roy was in the one above him. They'd each taken a long, steamy shower, and 'relieved' their male needs with some help from their favourite reading materials, and as worried as he was, Colin did feel remarkably relaxed. Maybe things would be okay. He was certainly in the best physical condition he could be.

"No," Roy said immediately. "I'm gonna make the team, period. You will too."

Roy's unshakeable confidence was pretty contagious, especially for a boy who was his twin in so many ways. Colin smiled, feeling relaxed and comfortable with the sheets resting on his hard, muscular form, just wearing his underwear. The pleasantly dull ache in his privates made him feel better still, and Colin soon fell asleep, assured that things would work out tomorrow. He would be joining the brotherhood of the football team, and starting high school almost right afterward. It was all pretty exciting.

 **XX**

After being good little slaves and doing a flawless job for weeks without a word of complaint, Colin and Roy were allowed to leave early in the morning to go to Central High School a few miles away. Colin's automatic protest at the injustice of having to actually wear a shirt, thus cheating him of the ability to show off his hard-earned muscle, drew a laugh from Roy, and then from Colin when he thought about what he'd said.

"This from the guy who didn't want to go to the beach a couple weeks ago," Roy said, grinning.

Colin grinned, too. He had to admit, he was enjoying himself. There were some awesome perks to becoming Roy's twin, that was for sure.

Eager to get to tryouts early and get out of the house, the boys left over an hour ahead of time. They biked around town, taking in the pleasant sensations of a cool morning that promised to turn into a very hot day, and headed to Central with half an hour to spare.

"The upperclassmen are trying out for the varsity team, too," Roy said as they parked their bikes. "So there'll be two sets of tryouts going on."

"What's varsity again?"

"Basically the really good team."

"Why aren't we going for that? If we're so good and everything?"

Roy gave him a look. "They don't let freshmen try out for varsity teams, genius."

"Why?"

"It's the rules."

"I thought Roy was too cool for the rules."

Roy gave him another look, stopping as they headed up the cement walk to the front doors of the three-story high school's main building.

"Stop that."

Colin put on an innocent look. "Stop what?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you _do_!" Roy said, getting frustrated.

"Hey, guys! You made it!" a cheerful voice said behind them, and the two boys turned around.

A dark-haired boy with a haircut that easily could have passed inspection at an Army barracks was standing behind them, wearing dark blue jeans shorts and a red t-shirt. He had a strong, athletic look about him, and looked to be around Colin and Roy's age.

"Jack!" Roy said, reaching out and shaking hands with the other boy. "Escaped from military school after all, huh?"

Colin was staring, trying to figure out who this guy was and how he knew him and Roy, but Jack just shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, Mom and Dad finally decided a year on the East Coast was enough."

"Which one was it again?" Colin asked, trying not to let his amnesia be too obvious. "The school?"

"Fishburne. It's in Waynesboro, Virginia. Boring as hell, guys. It's good to be back here in California."

"Glad to have you back," Colin said, reaching out to shake hands as well.

"You know," Jack said, "I'm glad I made it back in time for tryouts. I'm set on making the varsity team junior year, and we gotta start now, you know what I mean?"

"Sure," Roy nodded.

"Well, not like you guys need to worry, right? Penneman's already got his eye on you."

"You know it," Roy said, flashing a brilliant smile. He motioned to Jack, and Colin. "Come on, let's go check in. It's been too fucking long since I played football."

"Way too long," Colin echoed, feeling a rush of frustration at the fact. He started after a moment; he'd said that? But the understanding reply from Jack, and Roy's pleased and knowing smile, helped. Colin was doing his best to fit in and act like his new life required, and he seemed to be doing all right at it.

 **XX**

"Boys!" Coach Molinoff said, his tanned, leathery face breaking into a grin when he looked up from his roster and saw the Borden twins standing at the front of the line. "Whaddya say, Roy? Colin?"

"Hey, Coach," Roy said, giving him a friendly grin, the kind that came easily to someone as confident as him. "Looking forward to tryouts."

"How about you, Colin?" Molinoff asked rhetorically, turning his head towards the other of the two boys with one face. "Looking forward to playing some football?"

Colin abruptly lost his sense of confidence, abruptly was seized by the freezing grip of terror when he realized he knew nothing about football whatsoever. He was going to screw up so bad! What was he doing here?

 _No, no- I know football. I love it. It's the best goddamn game there is_.

 _I don't know a thing about it. How can I love a game I don't_ -

Molinoff, sitting behind a folding table, reached up and waved a hand in front of Colin, making the youth jump slightly. A few boys farther back snickered, and Colin felt his cheeks and neck grow hot. What a great start he was off too, engaging in identity conflicts in front of the coach.

At least he hadn't started arguing with himself, for Chrissakes, or almost punched himself in the face. That probably wouldn't go over well.

"I've been going crazy, Coach," Colin blurted with surprising smoothness. "Life's just not right if I don't have a numbered jersey on my back."

"Still a bodybuilding jock-for-life," Molinoff said, shaking his head solemnly. Then his face broke into a broad grin again. "What am I going to do with you? Either of you?"

"Put us on the field as soon as possible?" Colin asked hopefully, eager to recover from his mistake.

"You're darned right," Coach Molinoff said; he held out his bear paw-like hand and Colin shook it firmly, with the practiced ease of a boy who did not lack for confidence. In that moment there was no self-doubt in Colin, none of that depressing timidity and fear that he was so completely used to. He felt strong inside and out, ready to suit up and go shame everyone else on that football field.

It was a good feeling.

 **XX**

The locker room was rapidly filling up when Colin and Roy got there, and Colin felt overwhelmed by the simultaneous input from two sets of memories. They were abstract ones, dealing with the connotations and stigma of the scent of old, rusty metal and years upon years worth of teenage boys' sweat. The clang of locker doors, the sound of water spraying on tiles, the sight of lean boys, steadily turning more muscular as they progressed into their teenage years, changing out of their regular clothes and into their uniforms.

Colin had once seen this as a place of fear, a place where skinny, shy boys like him were ripe for embarrassment. But that sensation, the feeling that this was altogether a 'bad' place, was quickly swept aside by a much stronger one.

 _It's good to be back_.

It made Colin smile, and he found himself casually wandering into the room, to the side-by-side lockers assigned to Colin and Roy. He exchanged greetings with boys he didn't know, but did, and quickly set about stripping off his summer clothes.

"Enjoying yourself much?" Roy asked knowingly, as Colin got lost for a few moments, staring at his powerfully-built bare upper half.

"What're you getting on _him_ for, Roy?" a boy with a head of stylishly-cut, shaggy brown hair asked from a bench nearby. "He's admiring himself. You do that, what, five times a day?" He must have been one of the first in here; he was already wearing his brand-new Central High uniform, with its red jersey and white pants, shoulder pads and all. He was in the last stages of pulling on and tying up what was clearly a new pair of football cleats.

"No," Jack Marchetti said, joining the conversation as he walked by. "These two? _Eleven_ , man. That many times a day at least."

"Hey, I'm not doing anything Laurie doesn't do even more," Roy said nonchalantly. "You see all this? I'm gorgeous, man."

"Oh, and modest. I forgot that part," the brown-haired boy said, finished with lacing up one cleat and switching to the second.

"Shut up, Ben," Roy said kindly.

"Get any this summer, kid?" a boy said suddenly, clapping Colin on the shoulder. Colin jumped, and the boy laughed. "Spacing out again? Christ, and he's supposed to be the best center here? Hut one, hut two, hut three- huh?"

Colin's face burned, but he resolutely went on shoving his casual clothes in his locker and pulling on his tight-as-crap white uniform pants.

Roy, on the other hand, met the mockery head on. In the span of a second, he dropped what he was doing, and a loud clanging echoed around the locker room as Roy slammed the other boy against the lockers just to Colin's right.

"You wanna shut your mouth, wise guy?" Roy asked, breathing hard. "You wanna shut your mouth, or you want me to do it for you?"

The other boy, wearing short-cut, carefully-styled sandy-blond hair and a red t-shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers that were beyond a doubt from top-level designer brands, snarled angrily and shoved back. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Ben said, running over. "Cut it out, guys! Coach finds any of us fighting before tryouts even start, he's not gonna like it."

"You heard 'im," the boy said. "I'm not here to start a fight. Are you?"

Colin had finished getting his pads and jersey on, and glared hard at the other boy. "You shouldn't go running your mouth, then."

"Fuck you," the boy said deliberately. Roy was about to slap him hard across the face when Colin caught his brother's wrist. "Let him go," Colin said. "We'll settle this later."

"You bet we will," the boy said, glaring at Roy and Colin when the former let him go. "See you out there, Jerkules."

The audience that had been gathering to watch the confrontation slowly broke up, and the steady babble of conversation resumed. Colin found it remarkably easy to exchange casual, "guy talk" banter with Ben, Jack, and at least a half-dozen other boys while they all dressed, making introductions alongside Roy. Colin realized that several junior highs fed into Central High School, and thus there were a lot of boys neither he nor Colin knew. A lot of potential friends, something you needed to be popular.

Popular. It hit Colin, yet again, that he had been that in junior high, and stood a solid chance of being that in 9th grade. The raw aggression that so easily came out in Roy just as quickly was replaced by the natural charmer, and in the ten minutes of waiting as the last arrivals filtered in and got their uniforms on, he said hi and got himself and Colin talking to at least a dozen boys they didn't know. The broad-shouldered, powerful Borden brothers were given a wary respect from the beginning, especially after the fury shown by Roy when the rich kid had tried mocking his brother. But by the time the hopefuls were called outside and began trooping out to the field, it was laughs and casual banter all around.

Colin did his best to participate, but mostly just sat there and enjoyed himself. Here he was, visibly stronger than more than half of the boys in the room, in such fit condition that he had seen a dozen envious glances thrown his and Roy's way while they'd each been down to their underwear. And now he was about to go try out for football- and there was clearly no doubt he'd make it!- joining a team, a brotherhood of athletes, for the first time since starting this new life.

It made him smile, hardly the first time he'd done that today. _This it. Time to go play some football._

 **XX**

"Okay," Coach Molinoff called as the boys gathered around him. "Welcome to day one of junior varsity tryouts at Central High School. I'm Coach Peter Molinoff, JV Coach, and beside me is my assistant coach, Ed McGinley. Now, this is just the first day of a whole week, so don't push too hard. Pace yourself. If you wear out today, you won't have enough left to make it to the end of the week."

Molinoff paused, looking around. "Of course, if you haven't been staying in shape- or getting in shape- this summer, or if you've been slacking off on your football skills, that's gonna be pretty obvious too."

"Give it your best today, but remember this is just the start. And drink water, guys. It's gonna be hot all this week."

Quickly dividing the thirty-odd boys into two lines, Molinoff walked out onto the field and turned to face them. "Okay, warm-ups. Let's start with some sprints!"

 **XX**

Colin had been instinctively worried at the beginning of the extensive series of warmup exercises, but before long he realized he'd had no reason to. A lifetime of addiction to athletics had made his body incredibly resilient, able to withstand great amounts of stress and long periods of heightened exertion without a problem. When the other boys began breathing harder, sweating as things got tougher, Colin was just going through the motions. Gradually, he had to fight not to smirk. This was killing some of the boys, challenging the rest, but he and Roy were enjoying themselves. It was just a little workout for them, barely enough to break a sweat.

Colin could see the admiration of the other boys, the jealousy- they could all tell that Roy and Colin were in better shape than anyone else here. To be the subject of such attention was awe-inspiring for Colin. He threw himself into even the longest sprints, the fastest pushups, with joy. This was turning out to be a lot of fun.

 **XX**

When the endurance and general fitness tests were over, however, and Coach Molinoff had the boys started practicing passes, everything changed. Colin started getting nervous; guys were all talking about what position they hoped to play this year, what they'd been in junior high the past three years. Colin soon discovered Roy was a quarterback, and unsurprisingly this turned out to be both a crucial offensive player and the one who was generally regarded as the team's leader.

Colin, on the other hand, managed to learn in conversation that he was a "Center", and that like Roy with quarterback, he had never wanted anything else. Yet he found himself stumbling and stuttering in conversation, dropping the ball or outright missing when a pass was sent his way. How was he supposed to play a position he had only just discovered was his favourite, in a game he had never once played?

"Colin," Jack called, casually shooting him a pass. "You all right, man?"

"I'm fine," Colin said insistently, unwilling to admit anything was wrong. What was he supposed to say, anyway?

 _I turned into Roy's twin brother recently. Big adjustment, a lot to get used to. I'm having to take an hour every day to remember all this stuff I already did, so I'm just not on top of my game today, Jack. Happens to everybody who gets turned into a different person by a creepy old house, I'm sure._

"Yeah," Colin grumbled under his helmet. " _That's_ gonna go over well."

"What?" Ben, the daring wide receiver said from Colin's right, snatching an incoming football ut of the air and neatly throwing it back.

"Nothing," Colin said, clumsily chucking the football he was holding out towards Jack, who was still eying him curiously. Roy, a quick glance showed, was happily shooting a ball back and forth with one Danny Alder, one of the new friends from another junior high school the twins had made in the locker room. He was at home here, master of his universe, supremely skilled, supremely confident. Graceful, athletic, popular- everything Colin had never been.

 **XX**

Then, as things moved on to the selection of small teams by Coach Molinoff, the execution of basic plays and a couple skirmish-style games, Colin's shaken but valiantly-holding confidence collapsed, and his questionable football skills became so bad it was painful to watch. It had to be. It sure was for Colin.

Placed where he supposedly loved to be, Colin got a lot of funny looks when he had to be told what Coach meant by "Snap the ball to Roy". It entailed bending over from the waist, and rapidly shooting the ball backward between his legs to the quarterback, who would then draw back to make a pass to most "open" player, one with the fewest opposing players near him, as the offensive team's formation broke up.

It only got worse, though, when Colin threw the ball and hit Roy in the helmet on the first go, then smacked him in the knee the second. The third time he got it right, successfully snapping the ball to Roy, but upon straightening up realized he had no idea what to do. He ad-libbed it from there, just moving where most of the team did, and for a minute that seemed to work.

But then he heard Ben hollering, "Colin! You're way outta position, you need to-"

Roy called for and made a pass to him, but with no cover Ben was easily blocked, prompting groans of dismay from Colin's team, and a louder one from Coach Molinoff.

"Hey! Hey, Muscles! Nice play!" the rich kid- Colin had learned his name was Kevin LeBlanc- shouted, clapping enthusiastically. "You should try out for the girls' team- oh, that's right, _there isn't one_!"

"Colin, what is going on, man?"

Ben was suddenly right in Colin's face, looking angry and scared at the same time. Angry at Colin screwing up, scared at failing to make the cut, was Colin's best guess.

"You gonna keep thus up all week? Because I'll just go home now, I don't need-"

"Markinson!" Molinoff shouted. "Get outta his face!"

"Yes, Coach!" Ben said, flashing Colin another look before he went. This one showed hurt; he felt let down. That felt worse than when he'd just looked mad at Colin.

"Colin Borden, get yourself over here!"

Dreading what was surely coming- a good chewing-out, if not getting dropped outright- Colin called out, "Yes, Coach!" and jogged out of the small crowd of boys standing around on the field, every one seeming to stare right at him.

"No worries, Colin! I hear they're looking for towel-boys, too!"" Kevin LeBlanc called after him, prompting a sharp rebuke from the assistant coach. It was nice to see that guy told to mind his own business, but it didn't help Colin much.

 **XX**

Colin dropped his jog to a trot, then to a condemned man's slow walk, as he approached Coach Molinoff. It wasn't until he was almost in front of him that Colin could even bear to raise his head enough to look him in the eye. This was so embarrassing, Colin wanted to just curl up and disappear. It was awful. He could hear them snickering out there, could imagine Roy steadily losing his temper and getting ready to punch someone. He could hear Kevin continuing to make jokes.

 _The jig's up. I'm gonna flunk. No way can I fake this a whole week!_

Fully expecting a face filled with malice and contempt, Colin looked up and saw Coach Molinoff staring down at him expressionlessly.

"Colin," he said quietly, "Get that helmet off, mister."

Colin quickly reached up and pulled his helmet off, fumbling with it as he worked it up and over his head. Soaked in sweat as the day's heat rose steadily, Colin felt pure, blissful relief from the neck up, but it didn't do any good. It didn't stop him from all but dying from shame.

Molinoff continued to gaze at Colin for a few moments before saying anything. Out on the field, Coach McGinley was taking up the slack, directing the boys to resume the game with another hopeful taking up Colin's slot. Great. Already he'd been replaced.

"What's eating you, Colin?"

Colin sighed hopelessly, shaking his head. "I-I dunno. I dunno, Coach-"

"Feeling the pressure of starting high school? Something happen at home? Lady troubles?"

"Sir-Coach-" Colin started to protest, but Molinoff just waved him to silence, setting a firm hand on one of Colin's padded shoulders.

"I'm not asking you to answer me. But I watched some of your 8th grade games myself. Coach Wilson says you and Roy were the two best players he ever had. You're one of the best recruits I've got on this field, so whatever's eating at you, I need to know if you can square it away and handle it."

"I don't know, Coach," Colin sighed hopelessly, despair eating at him like acid. "I don't know…"

"Feel like telling me anything? I'm gonna tell everybody this later on, but I'll tell you now- I keep an open door. What you say to Coach stays with Coach."

"I-I can't talk about it," Colin said, shame-faced and embarrassed. How had all this gone so wrong, so fast? It had all been so wonderful when it started this morning.

Coach Molinoff started to say something, but he turned his head abruptly, noticing a new arrival. It was Roy, Colin's twin brother, striding over with a concerned look on his face, his helmet under his right arm.

"Coach, can I borrow Colin for a minute?"

"Not now, son," Molinoff said impatiently; he clearly didn't like being interrupted. At least not now.

"Sir, it's about what's going on with Colin. I can help."

The football coach hesitated; it looked for a time that he was seriously considering saying no. But the calm, steady, completely self-assured look Roy gave him in return, a confidence mirrored in his posture, must have sold Coach Molinoff and quieted his doubts. He nodded, and began moving off to rejoin his assistant coach in running the skirmish game.

"Talk it out, guys. Take an early water break. If you feel you can get it together, Colin, come and talk to me. I'll give you the day off if you need it, but you gotta be back and ready to go tomorrow if you want to stay on the roster."

"You got it, Coach," Roy called after him. Colin didn't look; he just stared at the ground.

"Colin," Roy hissed, visibly frustrated. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

"I can't play football, Roy! _That's_ what's wrong with me!"

"Oh, come _on_! You're one of the two best players on the fucking _team_!"

"Then why can't I _do_ this?" Colin asked, barely able to keep from shouting it.

Roy blew air out of his mouth, running his hands through his hair and turning away. A moment later, though, he turned back, calm once more, gazing intently at Colin in that special way he did anytime Roy had a plan.

"You're overthinking it. I should've figured; you're really good at that."

"Thanks."

"Just _listen_ , Colin. You can be a wiseass all you want later."

"Okay, okay."

"You have to stop thinking so much about it. Just relax and trust yourself."

"Really? Just go out there and _act_ like I know what to do?"

"Not act, just know. You've been playing football since you were in elementary school, Colin. Trust me. You fucking know what you're doing."

"But I can't just-"

Roy reached out and gently set his hands on Colin's broad, muscular shoulders. Whether it was intended or not, Roy reminded Colin in one instant how much he loved who he was now. Swift, strong, popular and smart, gifted with perfect eyesight and natural athletic grace. Those shoulders were symbolic of all of it, and thinking about that, thinking about that beautiful football uniform he was wearing now, all those friends he was making and already had… Colin felt the tension, fear and uncertainty leave him almost instantly. He looked at Roy, who gazed back, saying nothing for a few moments.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"You can do this."

Colin smiled. "Okay."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

It took a minute to talk to Coach Molinoff, convince him that Colin now had his head fully in the game, but Colin's charm and earnest salesmanship was all but impossible to resist when combined with Roy's. He put Colin back in the game alongside his brother.

As he got into position with everyone else, Colin closed his eyes for a moment, took in a breath, let it out.

When the shout came, Colin snapped the ball to Roy without thinking; he just did it. He sprang up and forward as the two lines crashed together, and easily stayed on his feet. Adrenaline coursed through him; everyone else seemed to be moving at half speed. Sprinting to cover Ben as he broke out into the open, Colin shouldered and pushed past anyone who came near him. Nobody got near Ben.

The second play, Colin found himself surveying the opposing team's defensive line. Thinking. He called out to the guys on his team, addressed nearly all by name, because he knew nearly all of them from junior high. Gave orders for adjustments in the line; they were too bunched up, too concentrated to realize it.

They broke through the defense yet again, and Roy was grinning, throwing his arm around Colin's shoulder, while Ben dramatically thanked God that the Borden twins had gotten their shit together.

"Colin!" Coach Molinoff called out, seeming as relieved as anyone as a third play got started, "Thank you for joining us!"

Under his helmet, Colin grinned. His heart sang with joy, and that didn't change in over an hour of on-and-off practice, his only complaint being the need to stop for the water breaks. The hotter it got and the harder he had to work, the happier Colin became. He threw and received passes, snapped the ball to Roy flawlessly, knocked a dozen different boys on their asses when the two teams leapt forward and collided. When Coach Molinoff finally called a halt to practice for the day, halting before the heat of the early afternoon became too much, Colin actually groaned in disappointment, while everyone else sighed in relief.

Even so, he was in a fantastic mood as they headed back to the locker room. Ben and Jack were elated, and Roy couldn't have been more pleased. Colin hadn't gotten enough of football today, but he had an old, familiar thought return to his mind: the reminder that, on any day, there could never be enough of anything this good.

 **XX**

Colin shyly grinned and acknowledged the many compliments he got about his performance after his talk with Roy, and the jokes and good-natured ribbing about how he'd done before. Various theories were discussed between Ben and Jack, in particular; Jack was certain Colin was having lady troubles. Ben promptly topped by asserting that since Colin had gone through more girlfriends than anybody else at their junior high (aside from his brother), it had to be that Colin had finally screwed up and fathered his first illegitimate child.

Roy told them to knock it off at that point, seeing that Colin was turning pink.

So many guys came up to shake Colin and Roy's hands as they all started to get out of their uniforms and head to the showers, Colin lost track of who was who. He had a certain sense of recognition, sometimes memories were brought back to him, with guys he knew from junior high. But the many new friends that Roy was helping the twins make were next to impossible to remember. Colin smiled, did his best to banter and joke with "the guys", dazed and in a state of disbelief that he was even part of such a group.

Friends. Confident, popular, athletic friends, and he was surrounded by them, accepted fully as one of them. Sure, this was just the first day, and some of these boys wouldn't be making it to the end of tryouts. But with Roy laying the groundwork early, and the two of them already having been big-shots on their team in the 6th to 8th grade, they stood a good chance of being very well-esteemed by their fellow freshmen once the JV team's roster was picked out.

The older boys were a different story. The 10th graders and even a few 11th graders didn't mix as much with the nervous, excited, fast-talking freshmen, all of them worked up about simultaneously joining the football team and starting high school. And far from the many admiring and awed looks he got from boys his own age at his powerful, rock-hard muscle and the imposing presence it gave him even when surrounded by other athletes, Colin was sure he saw some dark looks sent his way by some of the older boys in the locker room. He wasn't sure how to react to that, but didn't have to settle on anything, as so far, none of them had said anything to him or Roy beyond practical stuff during a game.

Some other types of looks started coming his and Roy's way, though, once the Borden twins had stripped to the waist. The eyes of boys passing by, or standing near them, started sliding their way. Curious, a little wary. The jagged, melted scars running the length and width of their broad, muscular backs were no doubt the source of it, and Colin's temper started to rise the moment this realization set in.

"How'd you get those scars, man?" a boy next to him asked.

"An accident," Colin said shortly, irritation already creeping into his voice. "Long time ago."

" _Damn_ , man," another boy said from behind Colin. "Dude. What _happened_ to you two?"

"Don't you wanna talk about it?" the first boy asked hopefully.

"No," Roy said, visibly annoyed. "Because you're _asking_ about it."

Then a slick, clever voice said from behind Colin, off to his right, "Dog, I gotta ask. What the _fuck_ is up with your _backs_?"

Acting with almost blinding speed, Colin dropped the pads he was putting away. He spun, lunged forward, and in the span of two seconds lunged toward Kevin LeBlanc, slammed hand into his throat in a vise-like grip, and crossed the remaining couple of feet of tile to crash him into a set of lockers. Then he let go, standing back and looming over the boy, glaring hatefully down at him. "What'd you say? What was that you said?"

Faced with so much raw anger and hardened muscle on display, Kevin lost a lot of his bravado. But he recovered after a few moments of startled surprise, and glared right back. "I think you heard me."

Colin glared at him for a moment, then out of nowhere somebody backhanded Kevin across the face with a sound like a gunshot. It took a moment for Colin to realize the hand was his. Kevin staggered back and hit a set of lockers, the loud, metallic banging resounding in the tiled locker room. Shock, rage and pain showered in his eyes, and his hands came up as he moved forward, a little unsteady but plenty pissed off.

Roy came over then, and almost casually yanked Kevin LeBlanc's towel from around his waist. "Hey! Sonofabitch-"

Evading the other boy's grabs, Roy effortlessly held the towel away, then threw it over to the next row. "Go get it, faggot. Scoot! Like the pie!"

"Ha, Scooter!" Ben called, and in seconds Jack and a whole group of other boys, a dozen at least, that Colin had a sense of familiarity about were joining in on the jeering and catcalling. Blushing crimson red, Kevin clapped a hand over his privates and hurried out of sight. From the sound of things- his own shouting and the laughter of boys on this row and the next- Kevin eventually got his towel back. But he didn't have an easy time of it. Colin returned to what he'd been doing, hoping to be left alone, but Kevin soon enough came back into view at the opposite end of the lockers, face twisted with fury. "I'll get you for this, you stupid fucks! I'll fix you! You'll wish-"

"SHUT UP!" Colin roared, grabbing another boy's bar of soap off the bench and hurling it straight at Kevin. It missed, but not by much, slamming into the water fountain behind him- hard enough to make a pretty good dent.

Kevin LeBlanc stared between the water fountain, the bar of soap, and Colin and Roy. He abruptly turned and headed out of sight again, and this time he stayed away.

The locker room had fallen almost completely silent, apart from the hiss of water in the showers.

"So this summer-" Ben said into the silence, and gradually everyone got to talking again. Nobody mentioned either Roy or Colin's scars anymore. Colin took his time with folding up his uniform and neatly putting his cleats and pads away; when he'd taken out and put back his knee pads for the fourth time, it dawned on him that he was stalling.

"What's the holdup?" Roy asked quietly, leaning over.

"Do- do we all have to shower?" Colin asked nervously. He'd always been scared to death of embarrassment in gym class, PE as it was often called, and avoided the open space of the communal showers like the plague. A scrawny bookworm was going to meet with nothing but humiliation and mockery in a junior high school locker room's communal shower, so Colin had always changed as quickly as possible and showered at home.

Roy laughed slightly. "Colin, look at yourself. I think you're forgetting."

"Forgetting what?" Colin asked, glancing down at himself. The chiseled-from-stone muscle that was on display from head to foot jumped into view, and Colin was awed all over again at what he was seeing. "Oh."

"One more thing."

"Like what?"

"Not gonna shower in your underwear, are you?"

Still a little reluctant, Colin finally pulled at the elastic band of his briefs with both hands, slid them down to his ankles and stepped out of them. He concentrated on putting that away in his locker as well, but Roy sensed Colin trying to stall again.

"Look down again, Colin. Come on."

Colin glanced down at himself, and blushed at the… endowment… he'd gained since becoming Roy Borden's brother. Wow. Was he really that big even when he wasn't- excited?

"They're all jealous as shit of us already," Roy whispered. "Let's show 'em there's one more thing."

The little entourage Roy and Colin seemed to be picking up had made their own excuses, stalled for time while Colin did, and when he finally felt bold enough to take his towel in one hand and wander off to the showers naked, Ben, Danny, Jack and a few others went with him, becoming the last freshman group to occupy the showers. Colin loved the feel of the warm rushing water, was delighted at how bold and confident he felt, simply by walking off to the showers with his cock hanging out in the open. Never, ever in his life before would he have dared do something like that, yet to Colin Borden it was a familiar act. He had nothing to fear, nothing to worry about, no insecurities in such a place whatsoever. Why not? He was the strongest one in the room.

The strongest one in the room…

It was a title Colin was rapidly falling in love with, one he, as Roy's twin, had worked all his life to earn and maintain. Showering with the guys, swapping stories (mostly lies, or exaggerations) about girls and how much pussy they were getting, Roy smoothly drew Colin into the conversations, encouraging Colin to join in, and before long he was.

 **XX**

"See you, Matt!" Colin called, waving to yet another new friend.

"See you, Colin!" the redhead called as they parted ways in front of the school.

"Hey, Colin, Roy! Awesome work out there today, man!"

"See you guys tomorrow!"

"Nice job, Colin!"

"Those were some sweet passes, Roy!"

Colin was a little overwhelmed, again, as the freshman hopefuls poured out of the front doors of the school, and it seemed like at least half personally greeted Colin before going on their way. Between their bold football playing and their even bolder personalities, Colin and Roy appeared to have made quite a splash. It was dizzying, having to keep track of so many names and positions that each of them wanted to play, and had played. But it delighted Colin more than he could've said. He'd never had so many friends, and soon-to-be friends, in all of his old life. The heat of the afternoon didn't bother him at all; Colin just smiled, turned to Roy as they mounted their bikes, and pulled his shirt over his head. "Just to cool off," Colin said casually.

"Right," Roy said, grinning back.

As they started to bike out across the student parking lot and through a small stretch of forest into a neighborhood that eventually would lead them back home, Roy looked fondly at Colin. "So. You like football?"

"Love it," Colin said, grinning from ear to ear.

"See, I knew you would."

"It's such a blast!" Colin exclaimed. "Why did Coach have to stop tryouts, anyway?"

"Because everybody else was gonna die in this heat if we kept going."

"Everybody else. Not us?"

"Never."

 **XX**

Colin chattered back and forth with Roy the whole ride home; the more he talked about how much fun he'd had today, the more things he remembered. Vivid memories of a hundred previous football games and practices, of the dumb grab-ass games played in the locker room whenever Coach wasn't around. Of victory after victory, celebrating with the guys, seeing their adoration and awe at the sheer talent and physical strength that Colin and Roy possessed.

Love of the endless hours of weightlifting with the guys on the team, love of football itself, everything about it. And a strong, almost overwhelming memory of how much fun it had been do have spent all that time, gained all those memories, right alongside his brother.

It led Colin to quiet down a little, sifting through these hundreds of memories. He wound up 'spacing out' just a little, delighted yet again to find that his memories of bodybuilding and football, so closely tied together, had Roy present every time. They were never separated. If one got into a fight with a teammate or opposing player, both fought. If one got in an argument, the other automatically joined in on his behalf. And on the field, there was no better combination of center and quarterback; the twins were famed for being able to seemingly act and think as one person.

"You're thinking about something," Roy said as they waited at a stop sign.

"At least I'm thinking."

"What, and I don't?"

"I'm just saying one of us has to."

Roy made a face.

Colin made a face, too.

Roy laughed and shook his head, looking away.

"So what were you thinking about?"

Colin looked at Roy for a moment. He was a teenage bodybuilder, and he'd just started high school. A best-of-the-best student, an unparalleled athlete, and he was not even fifteen years old. He was intelligent, mature beyond his years, a great confidant and companion… Roy really was the greatest person his age Colin had ever met, the best friend he'd ever had. Add on that seemingly-boundless energy and a wonderful sense of humor, and you had Roy Borden. Just a flat-out awesome guy.

So Colin let himself smile at Roy, feeling a familiar rush of love and affection for his twin brother. "It's fun getting to be brothers with you."

"For the rest of our lives, Colin," Roy said, smiling back.

"Always."

"Hey," Roy said, taking off on his bike as the street cleared. "Catch me if you can!"

Colin sped off, racing after his brother, filled with delight at the challenge.

 **XX**

They arrived home just in time. In time enough, that is, to actually see Dad before he left for the office. Again.

Mr. Borden was coming down the concrete front walk, briefcase in hand, his mind obviously somewhere else. He didn't notice his sons pulling in on their bikes at first, but gradually became aware that Colin was hurrying right up to him.

"Dad! Dad!" Colin exclaimed, the adrenaline from the race he'd just won (Won! Against _Roy_!) making him excited about his triumphs at football tryouts today all over again.

Mr. Borden looked up from unlocking his Oldsmobile. "Oh. Hey, Colin. Hey, Roy. How'd baseball go today?"

"It's football, Dad." Roy sounded vaguely hurt… but not too surprised.

"Oh. Football." Mr. Borden didn't seem too sure what to make of that. "Well… I got a big case coming up. Lots of work to do. But you make sure to tell me all about it next time, okay?"

"At dinner?" Colin asked, nodding hopefully.

"Dinner- well, Colin, you see, I'm really busy. I actually just came back to have dinner an hour ago. That's why I'm heading back out now."

Colin's face fell along with his hopes. "Well… you'll be back later, right?"

"I'm not sure when it'll be. There's a lot to do for a big case like this."

"Well-"

Mr. Borden sighed quietly, setting down his briefcase. He seemed to notice the two adolescent weightlifters in front of him, sweaty and clad only in a pair of shorts, for the first time, and seemed a little uncomfortable at the sight of them. Maybe it was all that muscle. But Mr. Borden knelt and gently hugged Colin anyway. It was oddly touching, yet seemed awkward, distracted- the act of a man whose mind was already at the office, even if his journey to return there had been delayed.

"Next time, Colin," he said. "I promise."

Stunned and hurt, Colin stood there in the driveway like an idiot, waving mechanically as his father's car drove away down the street, its occupant not looking their way once. He was already gone. Colin's memory flashed back then; of this scene repeated a dozen ways, at a dozen times, over every year Colin could remember.

"Not now, Colin."

"Later."

"I'm really busy."

"Big case coming up."

And in that time Colin had gone from throwing a football around in the backyard with his brother to being one of the best teenage football players in Santa Leona- probably one of the best in California. His father appeared in those memories, always at the edges. Colin was steadily recovering his memory of Mr. Borden, a man he saw in flashes, felt in snatches. A man who he'd known his entire life by the words "I got a big case coming up."

Colin sighed. He felt Roy's hand on his shoulder, gentle and compassionate.

"You can't count on him, Colin. Not him or Mom."

"Not anybody," Colin heard himself say, in a voice filled with ashes, choked with tears. "No one. Just you."

Roy put an arm around Colin's muscular shoulders and squeezed, letting Colin cry a little, hiding his face from the world until he'd gotten himself under control again.

When they headed inside at last after putting their bikes away, Colin and Roy each got a lecture for "Walking into the house a stone's throw from naked" and were informed that the kitchen cleaning had been, clearly, a deliberately rushed job, shoddy stuff done, no doubt, so football would come that much sooner.

So they scrubbed everything, every tile, counter, every dish and every cupboard, before they ate anything. Dejection, hate, sadness, fury, despair, rage… Colin felt it all pulsing through him, back and forth.

Both boys were angry and restless after dinner, an affair in which they both sat in defeated, yet deeply resentful silence. Their mother ran conversation as strictly as everything else in the household, and with her great disdain for all sports, her athlete sons had precious little to talk about.

They held pushup contests, situps- did a remarkably comprehensive workout in the solitude of their room. Colin loved it; he loved the adrenaline that coursed through him once he got going, the challenge of competing with Roy, and the knowledge that he was maintaining his awesome physique- and improve it.

But once it was over, and Colin came down from the high, he found he was still angry. Furious, threatening to spiral out of control. He was sick to death of his mother, of being stuck in this fucking house. He wanted out, but there was nowhere to go where they could stay for good. They'd always have to come back here.

He talked to Roy for a while. Sports, school, sex, going to the beach. Colin loved the beach now. Loved it. He turned heads everywhere he went. Girls were checking him out, admiring his handsome features and his chiseled muscles. It was fun being an athlete. A jock.

Colin had never been happier; yet he had never been more depressed, more angry. He held back from telling Roy, but thoughts of killing, of rape and torture, were slipping into his mind, his dreams. Colin dreamed about some disturbing things now and then.

Tonight, after hugging Roy tightly and going to bed, Colin dreamt about the two of them.

They were naked, every inch of hardened, chiseled-from-stone muscle on display. They looked like a pair of teen titans, fourteen-year-old bodybuilders. Roy was talking animatedly, pacing a little.

Colin wanted to know why they were even waiting.

Roy said they had to decide who would go first.

Colin said because he'd been the one to "get her," he should.

Roy said the whole thing had been his idea. His master plan had succeeded thanks to Colin, but he'd thought it up.

Finally, they held a pushup contest. After Roy narrowly beat Colin to 150, he rose to his feet, flushed and grinning after pumping the reps out.

Sighing in resignation, Colin motioned dismissively and flopped down on a bean-bag chair, his bare ass feeling the cool synthetic leather. He watched. With annoyance, impatience… and pleasure. As he watched, he got hard.

Roy lay down on a pretty girl, tied up and gagged, her eyes wide with terror. She'd been hit a bunch of times, her arms tied together above her head, her shirt and bra crudely torn away to expose beautiful, ample breasts- very nice for her age. Her legs had been left free, and she tried desperately to kick Roy away as he lay his muscular frame down on her. He hit her, slapped her, promised to make it worse. Eventually she quit and lay still.

When that happened, Roy lay belly to belly with her, a hungry, greedy smile on his face as he forced himself into her. "Finally," he sighed in relief, and started. To Colin's further annoyance, Roy managed to hold it in and pound away at her for ten goddamn minutes. But Roy was clearly having the time of his life, and when he finished up on the girl's face, Colin actually clapped. Roy got up and walked over, a delighted smile on his face. He was glowing. A happy, all-American boy. He exchanged a high-five with Colin, clapped his brother on the shoulder. "She's all yours. I loosened her up for you."

Colin began walking towards her, eying her hungrily. He was hard as iron. Oh, he'd waited for this a long time, but now the waiting was over. He was gonna give it to her in ways she'd never _dreamed_ about…

Abruptly, Colin woke up.

Why?

No truck had backfired down the street. No train was blowing its horn. Roy was snoring just a little in the upper bunk, but quietly. The house was otherwise silent.

Colin hissed in cheated, enraged frustration. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't recover his disrupted dream. It was gone, and so was the fun he was gonna have. Wait…

 _Fun?_

 _Yes. Fun._

 _That was_ rape _, man. Roy raped that girl. You watched._

 _I watched my brother pop his cherry._

 _With a rape?_

 _Wouldn't have had to if she'd have just given it up. Girls at our age are such fucking cock-teases._

 _It's a_ crime _, for Chrissakes!_

 _Sure didn't feel like one to my brother._

 _It's_ wrong _._

Colin sighed, sitting up in his bed. He struggled at it, but finally managed to force the conflicting thoughts out of his mind. He didn't need this. Yet sleep still wouldn't come. Colin felt his anger returning, his annoyance at having the dream stop just as things were really getting good.

 _Maybe you quit. Did the right thing and refused to rape that poor girl._

 _I'd never betray Roy. He'd never get over it if I turned on him like that._

 _You might've stood up to him. Maybe that's why the dream ended._

 _I was up for it._

 _Should you have been?_

"No," Colin hissed quietly. This was wrong. What the hell was happening to him? He was going out of his mind. He would never rape, torture, or kill. Humans, or animals. That was a fact. It was beyond him to do anything like that, and if Roy was into all that, he'd have to find some way of helping him. Maybe both of them. He'd never kill anyone. Never. End of story.

 _But you did, in this life. You and Roy. It was fun as hell._

 _It. Was. Wrong._

 _So what? It made you both feel good. Blew off steam. Think you aren't wound up and pissed off right now?_

Colin realized he was. Some dark hour of the night, and here he was, still mad as hell. Mad that his father never had five minutes for either of his sons, mad as hell that his mother took callous advantage of her sons' strength and used them like slaves. Mad as hell that he was stuck with both of them.

 _Wouldn't it be nice to blow off some steam right now? Wake Roy up and I bet he'll find something for you both to cut up and kill in five fucking minutes, tops._

 _That's sick._

 _Roy would love it._

 _Then_ he's _sick._

 _Don't you love him?_

 _Of course I do._

 _Then kill something with him sometime. Make it suffer. You can't_ imagine _how much better you'll feel. Not until you do it._

Colin flopped down on his back, then moments later sat sharply up again, banging his head on the underside of the bunk.

"Shit!" he hissed, wincing and rubbing his forehead gingerly.

"Leemeelone," Roy mumbled. "Stoppitt. Don' wan' a guinea pig."

Colin now clapped a hand to his mouth, needing half a minute to suppress hysterical laughter. That was relief of a sort, and before long Colin realized he was calmer. A little laugh had calmed him down, and he firmly assured himself that he was Colin, no matter what. Was, and always would be. That helped a little more, and Colin soon found he could once again drift off to sleep, something he gratefully took advantage of.

His Borden-self got one more word in before he did, though.

 _Think about it_!

* * *

 **A/N: Some of Colin's POV narrative about Mr. Borden is based off of material I found in the insightful and tragic** _ **A Father's Story**_ **by Lionel Dahmer, Jeffrey Dahmer's father. Like Lionel, Mr. Borden is not a deliberately bad or neglectful father. But he is heavily introverted and given to obsessing himself with his work, hence the boys have more or less been left to develop on their own- or in the hands of Mrs. Borden.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

There was a lot going on that didn't make sense.

In Colin's mind, he was still Colin Jacobs. Despite the wonderful upsides to his new life, he was living the impossible. You didn't just get turned from one person into the other. You didn't get to say you wanted more muscles, better looks, lots of friends and to be better-endowed below the belt and actually have all that happen.

But it did. It did happen.

Colin knew it had, and yet he didn't. He was often so happy with his new life he could not believe he had been so lucky, that in two months Colin had made such an impression on Roy that a strong liking for Colin had already turned into love.

It was just that this was never supposed to happen. Colin had become someone else. Roy was changed too, stronger and happier for having been twins with Colin all his life. They had this life where the only people they really counted on was each other. A life that was great and terrible in equally extreme degrees. Every single day Colin woke up with some part of him secretly expecting to be boring old Colin Jacobs again, skinny, shy and friendless save for Roy. Yet he woke up this morning just like every other since he and Roy had escaped from that burning house. It was Friday, August 8. Last day of tryouts.

He opened his eyes, and could see clearly anywhere he looked.

No glasses needed.

He looked at his arms, his shoulders, buff and rich with iron-pumper's muscle, well-tanned from years of long, happy hours out on the beaches of Santa Leona.

No bookworm arms here.

Yet this was something that even Colin had felt was impossible, however much he wished sometimes to be taken into the worlds he imagined and the ones he read about in his books.

You didn't just get to admit you hero-worshipped Roy Borden and wanted to be like him in every way and get handed that, exactly that.

You just didn't get that.

But Colin sat up and looked at himself, and looked at Roy, who was climbing down to turn off their digital alarm clock. He did it in a hurry, but in a way that showed he was used to it. 'Mom' hated being woken up before she felt like it.

"Morning, Colin," Roy said, smiling. He came over and hugged his brother, and the love and sincerity Colin felt in that hug filled him with warmth. He still did not understand. How any of this was possible, or why Roy had wanted to bother so badly with him, with Colin, in the first place. Yet Roy had never wavered in liking Colin before, and had instantly embraced their new life once the change had happened.

The change.

As good a term as any, Colin thought, for something nobody would ever say was possible.

Yet here he was, living proof that it was possible.

Colin hugged his brother back, and the two boys, whom no one but themselves could tell apart from one another, got their clothes out and got dressed. Colin had never slept in his underwear before, yet now he did it all the time. He found himself even pulling on his jean shorts and t-shirt in ways that were different from how he had always dressed before. He put his belt buckle's point through the fourth hole rather than the fifth. A snug fit even then; Colin was a bigger boy, possessing a bigger frame throughout his life. He didn't have the skinny waist he'd once had.

It still awed him to look at himself. All that hardened, powerful muscle. Here, he was a boy who'd loved and excelled at sports and fitness all his life. It was just unbelievable to see his own body when he was in his underwear, or in the shower. Roy noticed Colin taking time to stare at himself, but didn't object or tell him to hurry up. Instead, he just smiled and shook his head once or twice, and reached over to ruffle Colin's straw-blond hair. Surprised and touched, Colin reached over and ruffled Roy's hair back.

The two boys smiled at each other.

This new life was still unknown to Colin. He didn't know his teachers, didn't know his friends, didn't remember habits and things he loved to do, and didn't know himself. The people he'd known before now looked at him differently, and some did not know him at all. But the one constant was in front of him now, even in silence calling him twin, blood brother, friend. Saying he was happier and better for having grown up the twin of Colin Borden rather than on his own.

Colin felt a brief tremor of fear over his doubts and hesitations; he had been a loner and one with no prospect of ever changing that before.

He had everything he ever wanted now. His deepest, most earnest and hopeless desire had been granted to him in full.

What if questioning and doubting this gift at every turn, hesitating to embrace and jump into it, caused this to be undone?

What if by disbelieving in what had happened, Colin made it disappear?

Did he really want to wake up lonely, skinny, myopic and boring again?

Having tasted a new and better life, having had Roy call him brother and say he wanted nothing more than to be actual, twin brothers with Colin- he, Roy Borden, wanted that more than anything else in the world- Colin was frightened by the idea of losing all this. While he did not know his new life yet, Roy was here beside him every step of the way, promising to guide and help Colin through everything. Colin, whose imagination had led him to dark and frightening places he did not want to go in his old life, found he retained some of that capacity now. He momentarily thought of one day returning to his old life and then never, ever getting the chance to live his dream again, all because he had been too afraid to believe something so wonderful had happened.

How could he give this up, even if it were possible? How could he let Roy down after the boy had shown him nothing but friendship, affection, and love?

Colin found he did not like that at all. He didn't want to even think about it. To banish the thoughts from his head, and to calm his overactive mind, Colin threw his arms around Roy and hugged him, there in the middle of their barren, cell-like room.

Something of Colin's fear must have shown in his eyes before he embraced his twin, or the tightness of his hug must have told Roy some kind of fear was behind it. Maybe Roy just knew his twin so well he could sense his moods and motives, or guess them with accuracy. Whatever it was, Roy seemed startled for only a moment, and then hugged Colin back just as tightly.

Somehow he guessed Colin had been afraid all this would just vanish, because he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

"I wanna go play football," Colin said after a few moments. "I really, really want to."

"Lucky you, Colin," Roy said in response. "We've got tryouts to kick ass at today."

"After we do our chores."

Roy looked like he'd eaten a lemon. "Yeah. After we do our chores."

 **XX**

Colin had never imagined so many things in his life would change so drastically. He still remembered his old view of the musty locker room, how he had always equated gym class with embarrassment and actual participation in athletics as a distant and impossible thing. Colin was still accustomed to being shy and reluctant to get into physical contests or go around bare-chested, but that was leftover from when he had been Colin Jacobs. Examining his memories as Colin Borden showed time and again that he couldn't have been more different.

He had once been a shy, introverted boy, nervous around girls and uncomfortable in social settings. At heart, Colin still thought he was. Yet his mind and memories had been transplanted into a young man who was nothing like that. Colin Borden was boastful and cheerful, a boy who delighted in all manner of contests and competitions. He was everything that Colin Jacobs had never been, or even had a chance to be.

It was hard to consciously remember that his life was so different, that he wasn't a shy, awkward bookworm in this life and that no one knew him as one. His old mannerisms or behavior continuously surprised and amused people around him; up until recently Colin had acted the same as Roy. The guys ragged on him some about it in the locker room when he and Roy got there, asking what had gotten Colin so distracted from football, the sport he loved more than anything- except girls.

That was something else that blew Colin away. He had… quite a history with girls. Quite a life. Colin Borden was not shy, or self-conscious, or lacking in confidence in any way. On the contrary, he relished a chance to show off and had gotten his first kiss just before he turned thirteen. Playing "Remember That?", Roy had gotten Colin to draw up memories of the last couple girls he'd made out with behind the Pit, and every one of them was a wonder to Colin. He'd gotten his hands, his lips, on those beauties? Before, he would've never stood a chance just because of looks alone. Girls that pretty wouldn't have looked at him twice. But in this life they'd let him entice them into playing around behind some sand dunes, or behind the Pit, where a few times he'd met a girl Roy was seeing and pretended to be his brother.

Colin focused on remembering what Roy had told him as they got into the locker room and changed into their uniforms. Don't get afraid or self-conscious. Stay calm. Remember that you know how to do all of this. In a new and confusing world and life, Roy was a welcome companion and friend. Colin helped himself relax by horsing around with Roy some, which soon led to playing grab-ass games with a bunch of the guys. It made very little sense to Colin that such a bunch of macho, heterosexual boys as these were so interested in slapping and touching each other's asses, but it was all normal and Colin remembered he had always participated. Roy's delighted smile as Colin took part in the pre-tryout horseplay thrilled Colin, as he could tell his twin was proud of him and happy he was embracing his new life.

Being a part of all this amazed Colin; every second was an incredible thing, something to cherish and treasure. Guys he had known for years, fellow athletes, were greeting him as a friend and teammate. Colin cited sports statistics he shouldn't have known but did, and boastfully compared himself to great players he had never heard of, but knew of well. Colin got into an argument with Jack about who was the best quarterback in North America, and it turned into a playful shoving match that Coach Molinoff broke up without a trace of surprise when he came into the locker room. He was clearly used to the Borden twins messing around, as evidenced by his reminder that you weren't supposed to wear any jersey number but yours. Coach said this while looking at Roy and Colin, who looked back innocently. Colin had to suppress a laugh as he realized that he and Roy really had switched jerseys several times through junior high school, even playing as the other during a few games. Apparently Molinoff had been warned about this.

Ben, Jack, Danny and the other boys Colin knew were all friendly and supportive, and Colin was awed at their obvious admiration of his physical strength, his outgoing personality, and his skill at football. Colin, who had always been an outsider and an observer of the brotherhood of sports, was now very much a part of that world. It was the center of his life.

Following Roy's advice, Colin relaxed and just did things during today's tryouts without giving it much thought. Coach Molinoff had him play center again, but moved him to quarterback, fullback, and tight end. Roy in turn did center, wide receiver, and quarterback. The twins excelled at everything Coach had them do, and Colin was thrilled and amazed at the skill he displayed, the incredible ability to not just shrug off boys who tried to take him down, but his mental agility. He knew the game, knew dozens of plays and strategies. Before he snapped the ball to Roy, Colin would size up the other side and give the guys a quick brief. Other times Roy would do that, but no matter what, the guys seemed to look to the Borden twins for leadership- they visibly assumed that Colin and Roy would just always know what to do. Colin felt some of his previous nervousness and fear of screwing up, but when he didn't dwell on that and just did it, trusting in his knowledge and experience in this life, things always turned out well. Colin worried now and then that he'd mess it up and be exposed as a fraud, but it never happened. His hands, his feet and legs- they all knew what to do even if his mind was somewhat confused right now. All Colin needed to do was focus on that and simply act.

Something Colin feared greatly was that he and Roy would get split up during the practices, be made to play on opposite sides during a game, but it never happened. During a break, Colin tried to access some memories, and found that the anxiety he and Roy had about being separated as children had extended into sports; the boys had never played as well if separated during anything official. A pickup game of football on their own time- that was different. Colin and Roy tested their strength against each other constantly. But when it was dressed up and serious, they were always together, always on the same side, as they would be during a game. As they would be no matter what was happening. Colin felt fiercely loyal to Roy and hated the idea of being split up from him, even for just a little while during a football practice. But right now, when he was having to re-learn the ropes and remember how to live a drastically different life, Colin was fearful of being separated from Roy for a whole other and much more serious reason. Coach didn't push it and simply told the boys on the other side to play hard, because the other team wouldn't be giving them many breaks either.

The second day of practice went far better than the first. Colin still dropped the ball awkwardly or missed passes he shouldn't have a few times, but it was nothing next to yesterday. Focusing on the game, on the fact that he already knew how to do this, helped a great deal. When Coach called an end to the tryouts for today and announced that Colin and Roy had been setting the standard today, Colin, sweaty and overheating under his pads and helmet, felt a rush of pride and delight. He felt like he was ten feet tall. Roy came up beside him and said, "See? Told you. You can do this."

"Yeah, I sure can," Colin replied, grinning and nodding. Remembering how to be one of the best players on the field was probably not a struggle many athletes had faced, but Colin was proud he was making such a good job of it.

The guys he knew- and was getting to know- crowded around as they all headed for the showers, offering praise and thanks. Several clearly saw Colin and Roy as their best prospects for making the team; if they showed they could work well with the Borden brothers and hold their own as part of the brothers' team, they'd likely get picked when selection time came. All of them were visibly jealous, but the ones who looked at Colin and his twin with anger rather than admiration did so cautiously. Nobody seemed to want a repeat of yesterday, when the twins had been truly angry. Colin made himself stay calm and casual as he stripped naked amidst the other guys and headed for the showers, and had to conceal his surprise as the boys instinctively moved aside, letting him and Roy get the first pick of the showers. No one teased him or messed with him- well, apart from Ben and Danny playing grab-ass and involving him in it- and Colin felt no fear or uncertainty. If anything, the guys were self-conscious about him, being envious of Colin's strength and handsome looks. Roy stayed beside Colin as usual, and nobody messed with either of them.

Colin had a feeling he was going to like being this way.

 **XX**

"Hey, Colin, you and Roy gonna join us at the weight room?" Martin Roberts asked, tapping Colin on one broad shoulder.

"Sure," Colin said automatically. "Just as long as Roy goes too."

"I'll go if Colin goes," Roy said cheerfully.

Both twins had put their shorts back on, but as usual, were really taking their time with their shirts. Colin suddenly decided he wasn't even going to bother putting his shirt on. He'd just go work out bare-chested, and stay that way. Who would stop him? Nobody. He was Colin Borden and nobody could make him wear a shirt if he didn't want to. Except Mrs. Larkin at the library. And the teachers at school. And Dad, although he was practically never paying attention anyway. And Mom. Colin felt a surge of anger as he thought of her. God, he hated that bitch. Always at her fucking shop selling shit to tourists that no local would but at half as much.

Did he want to work out after tryouts today? Hell yes, he did. It was an excuse not to be at home, because Colin fucking hated it there.

Perhaps sensing Colin's mind drifting somewhere unpleasant, Roy set a hand on one of Colin's powerful, heavily-muscled shoulders. That brought Colin back immediately; just being reminded of his immense strength in this new life cheered Colin up.

"Just remember not to overdo it, guys," Colin said, abruptly offering advice he apparently knew how to give. "We're tough, but we're not invincible. We've been putting stress on our bodies for hours."

"And make sure to drink water," Roy added. "We don't want anyone passing out."

"Thanks, Mom," Ben said, and Roy said, "How about 'Thanks, Colin and Roy'?"

Ben started to scoff at that, but he abruptly stopped when he saw the look on Roy's face.

"Thanks, Colin and Roy," Ben said, and he laughed. "Try not to embarrass us too much, alright, guys?"

"No promises," Colin said, shrugging.

"Damn it."

 **XX**

Central High School's weight room was located beside the track and football field, so the walk from the locker room was a short and easy one. Colin had followed Roy's lead and changed into his gym shorts, leaving the jean shorts for when they headed out for the day. It was early afternoon, and the sun blazed down from up in the clear blue sky. Perfect weather for going to the beach. Colin felt a thrill at the idea; it was wonderful having so many things he enjoyed, so many things to go out and do. Every day was living a dream, literally. Surrounded by friends and admirers, going to work out, thinking of going to the beach later- this was what being Roy Borden was like.

It wasn't perfect, but the downsides were far outweighed by the benefits. Colin loved being this way. He wanted to adjust, to remember everything he did and loved. It was all so new, so wonderful. Colin knew he'd remember everything in time. He'd deal with the problems he had in this life, and Roy would help him do it.

As he walked towards the weight room doors, Colin had to set aside those cheery thoughts and focus. He had never been to this weight room before, and before the change, he'd never been to any weight room before. As Colin stepped out of the sun and heat and into the cool, air-conditioned room, nervousness threatened to assert itself. He'd never been to a place like this in his life! All that chrome and blackened metal, that distinctive smell, a mix of old sweat, cleaning chemicals, and that black rubber floor. Colin didn't know anything about any of this. What was he doing here?

The boys who'd accompanied Colin and Roy all were excited, eager to get started, and yet they mostly milled around, waiting for someone to kick things off. They kept throwing glances at Colin and Roy, and it dawned on the ex-bookworm that they were waiting on the twins. Waiting on him.

He didn't even know what half this stuff was. He'd never lifted weights in his life.

"Hey, you gonna pick somethin', Colin?" Richard Parks, one of the boys that Colin had learned was from another junior high school.

"Whadddya say, Roy?" Ben asked.

"Come on, guys," Jack said.

Colin looked around, unsure of what to do. He wished he could carry himself with the constant overconfidence that Roy did, but he still didn't think of himself as Colin Borden first. He still thought of himself as being thin, awkward and in need of eyeglasses. This was a jock's room, part of their world- not Colin's.

Struggling with a conflicted sense of self, trying to sort out who he was now versus who he had been, Colin had a problem that not one of his friends in this world could help him with. They wouldn't remember the shy, nervous kid he'd been- they only knew a boy who was identical to Roy Borden in looks, behavior and talent. They'd think he was crazy if he tried to explain he had once been someone else and still had the memories of that other life. A desperate, fervent wish to be like the friend he worshiped and idolized had somehow been granted, and Colin had no frigging clue what was happening. There were moments where he did well, where he clearly remembered past behavior and memories. Right now, nervousness and fear of messing it all up was getting to him.

Roy, as he always had been since the transition, as he always had been in this life, was there when Colin needed him. He assured the guys that Colin was fine, telling them "He just can't decide what he wants to do first," and came over to Colin, throwing a heavy arm around his twin's shoulders.

"Howbout nisun, Colin?" he asked, gesturing towards a long, padded bench with a metal bar towards the end of it, and some weighted, disc-like objects on a rack nearby.

"Nis?" Colin replied, looking towards it. "I don't know nisun, it's noko, Roy."

Colin still felt and sounded nervous, but the use of the unique words he and Roy had developed as children and still used today eased the tension some, made Colin feel safer and more secure. He knew those words well, and it reminded him of the close bond he and Roy shared. They were inseparable, and any kind of separation had distressed them greatly as small children. They found life intolerable without the other and had shared the same classes and teachers all through elementary school, as taking them apart upset them too much.

"Liba Colin," Roy said invitingly, "Come on. Just try it."

That word… Colin knew that word!

"Dear Colin," he repeated, and Roy's handsome features lit up in a brilliant smile.

"Remember that?" Roy asked, and Colin nodded. Keeping his voice down, Roy went on, "You'll remember this, too, Colin."

"But I don't," Colin protested, nervous once more.

Roy slapped a hand against the hardened, highly-pronounced six-pack abs that Colin had, reminding Colin without words of his identical strength and looks to the boy who was now his twin brother, and in this life, always had been.

"How'd you get those?"

Colin searched his memory quickly, and he felt better as he remembered. He was new to this weight room, but he'd spent countless hours of his life in other weight rooms, other gyms. He'd already excelled at the physical challenges and contests that he and Roy engaged in, and had even thought to start trying to buff Steven Rose up some.

"Sit ups, mostly," Colin replied, "but that-" he pointed at the bench-press Roy wanted him to start with- "is how I get these". He imitated Roy's gesture, slapping a hand against each of the thick slabs of muscle he had on his chest.

"Go on, then," Roy said encouragingly. "Show them."

Running and doing pushups with Roy, or with Roy and Steven Rose, was one thing. Actually working out in a weight room with a bunch of athletes… that was different. Very different. Colin might have been comfortable enough with Roy, and with Philip and Steven, but here, even though he knew most of these guys, Colin's old nervousness around groups- especially groups of athletes-was still present.

But that wasn't who Colin was anymore. Even if he remembered that former life, it was gone now. A sudden change granted by the old Kingman place had banished Colin's lonely, introverted existence into nothing but memories held by himself and Roy.

You can do this, Colin assured himself. You can do it. Roy's awesome, you trust him, right? Yeah. He says you can do it, and he's always right. So let's go.

Colin nodded and lay down on his back on the padded bench, moving to get into position. He somehow knew that the steel bar needed to be over his chest, so he moved his head under it. Nearby, the boys all gathered to watch. The ones who already knew the twins were envious and in awe of their strength, while the ones who were only just meeting them wanted to see for themselves if the stories about Colin and Roy were true.

"Would you guys all be standing around watching if me and Colin were wearing shirts?" Roy asked them, prompting a round of defensive, embarrassed scoffing and laughter.

"I just wanna see if you guys are as strong as I heard," Richard said, and the other boys who'd come from different junior high schools nodded.

"I'm not that strong," Colin said, feeling the need to be cautious. The guys just laughed.

"Man, never thought I'd hear Colin try to be modest," Ben marveled.

"Really, it's not- I'm not that strong," Colin said. "Seriously."

"Uh-huh, yeah," Jack said, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

"Just watch, guys," Ben assured them all. "Colin and Roy know more about lifting weights than all of us put together."

Roy was calmly lifting some of those metal discs and fixing them to both ends of the metal bar.

"Okay, Colin," Roy said, standing over his twin. "I'll spot for you."

"Thanks, liba Roy," Colin said, and they shared an affectionate smile.

Colin reached up and lifted the bar off its mount. The weight had to be considerable; Roy had added a lot with those disc-like weights. Yet Colin's tanned, buff arms and shoulders bore the weight easily. Colin didn't feel overwhelmed; his arms did not tremble and shake. Roy didn't have to catch the barbell to keep it from dropping on Colin's neck.

He lowered the barbell until it was just about to touch his chest, then raised it again, straightening out his arms above him. Colin lowered it, raised it again, and repeated, grunting a little as his muscles warmed up and the weight of the barbell started to give him a real challenge. That was good. Colin remembered that he liked that.

"This is three hundred and fifty pounds here, guys," Roy remarked calmly. "For you new guys, Colin and I first benched this much in 8th grade, and we did two hundred for the first time in sixth grade."

The other boys shook their heads and stared in awe as Colin lifted and lowered the barbell. He was working hard after a minute or so, but he did not feel overwhelmed at all. The guys watched, unable to believe it even as they watched it, that anybody this age could be this strong. Colin felt like one of them- he couldn't believe it, even as he was doing it. He was in awe. Roy, standing over him, spoke words of encouragement and praise, which helped Colin keep up the repetitions at the steady pace he'd started at.

An upper body exercise, the bench press gave attention to a lot of key muscles, and being able to handle this much weight at this age was a testament to Colin Borden's fanatical interest in physical fitness. As he got into it, Colin realized he was once again enjoying himself- he loved doing this stuff. Absolutely loved it. He grinned as he exerted himself more to keep going, breaking a sweat after twenty reps. When he pushed himself all the way to fifty, some of his new friends needed to pick their jaws up off the floor.

"See?" Roy crowed. "I told you guys! Now, help me with nis, Colin. I wanna take a turn."

"Sure," Colin agreed, switching places with Roy. His brother proved just as capable, completing fifty repetitions at three hundred and fifty pounds. When he got up, sweaty and grinning, he and Colin exchanged an exultant high-five and then moved to encourage the guys to get started, already.

They stayed there in the weight room for about an hour. Roy continued to support and encourage Colin, guiding him around to different exercises and stations. Colin worked out at all of them, working with a considerable amount of weight each time. Probably his favorite apart from the bench-press was the dumbbells, one of the most easily recognized things in a weight room. Colin Jacobs would have struggled with anything more than ten pounds, and maybe even with that. Colin Borden, coming over to the dumbbells after vigorously exercising at a station that he used to maintain the considerable strength in his legs, simply picked up a pair of fifty pound dumbbells and got to work.

Wonder and pride at his own strength rushed through Colin as he raised the heavy weights in each arm, watching the powerful muscles ripple and bulge. He was steadily remembering a lifetime of experience at this; at each station, as long as Colin stayed calm, he realized he already knew what to do. He was in no danger of embarrassment. None whatsoever. Beside him, Roy lifted his own pair of fifty pound dumbbells. The ease with which Roy did it, the obvious power and stamina, was amazing to see. Colin couldn't even think of a way to describe how it felt doing the exact same thing, having that same physical might and endurance.

The adrenaline rush that Colin got as he worked up a good sweat, the euphoria of testing himself at each of these exercises he'd done, made Colin feel giddy with excitement. He was immensely proud and happy, in awe of his own strength. Memories of years spent visiting weight rooms extensively flooded back to him, and Colin just couldn't keep a grin off his face as he completed his reps with the dumbbell and ended the workout with another one hundred pushups.

Roy got the pushups knocked out faster, but not by much, and he shared Colin's delight at how Colin had been so close behind. Colin's nervousness, uncertainty, and fear of embarrassment had turned out to be completely unfounded, and he joked and laughed with the guys as they all took turns drinking water from the two fountains. He exchanged compliments with them, acknowledged their respect and admiration. Colin had always wished to be "one of the guys," had always wondered what that was like. Now, he was experiencing it, and he loved it just like he'd always thought he would.

High on the thrill of success, Colin found himself walking out of the weight room at his full height, broad-shouldered and supremely confident. He and Roy walked side-by-side, surrounded by friends and admirers. As he walked at that lazy pace, heading back to the locker room to get his stuff, Colin noticed again how pleasant all of his buff, hardened muscle looked under the sun. It was a handsome tan, gained from years of going to the beach. Speaking of which, Colin wanted to go surfing. He wanted to be seen by the girls again, see the positive reactions they had to seeing him with his shirt off. Oh, man. He simply could not get enough of that.

A lizard raced across the track, darting in front of the boys.

"Whoah!"

"What's that?"

"Hey!"

Colin's right foot shot out as his eyes tracked it, and he brought the heel of his shoe down on it at exactly the right moment. There was an audible crunch, and Colin felt a rush of pleasure as he realized he had killed the creature. He liked it. He wanted to do it again.

Roy neatly scraped the dead lizard off the track and kicked it off to the side. "Sucks to be him, huh?" he asked, and the guys laughed.

"Colin, that was frickin' cool, man," Jack said.

"Colin the killer. Don't mess with him."

"That's what happens when you get in the way of the Borden twins."

"Glad I'm on their side," Ben said.

"I wish I could move that fast!" Richard exclaimed. "Man, I never thought anybody could do that!"

"My brother's unstoppable," Roy said, throwing an arm around his brother's bare, heavily-muscled shoulders. "That lizard just found that out the hard way, is all."

The thrill and excitement that had come with killing the lizard privately confused Colin, who had done it without thinking, but it added to his good mood. Colin Borden enjoyed it and thought it was fun. He also liked stomping ant hills whenever he could find them. Colin remembered that. He didn't feel entirely at ease with what he had just done, but he found it easy to hide that, and to make sure he didn't do anything that would make the guys think he was a sissy, Colin laughed and just went along with it. Roy seemed to approve of that very much- but he may also have been acting like Colin was, keeping up the image in front of the guys. Colin resolved to ask about it later.

"That was great, Colin," Roy said admiringly. Yes, he definitely approved.

"You know what else'd be great?" Colin asked, eager to express an idea he'd just had- and to get things off this subject.

"What's that, Colin?"

"Do you really wanna know?"

"Yes," Roy said impatiently.

"Do you really, _really_ want to know?"

"I said I wanted to the first time, didn't I?"

"I need to hear a yes, Roy."

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, tell me your amazing, fantastic idea!" Roy burst out, exasperated with his twin. The guys just kept walking with them, hanging on every word.

"We should come to school with no shirts on the first day," Colin said.

"You know they won't let us," Roy answered.

"We'll do it anyway."

"Why should we do it anyway?"

"Come on, Roy, it'd be a real terrific popper!"

The word just slipped out. In his excitement and enthusiasm for the idea, Colin had just said it. Like killing the lizard, he had done it without thinking. Some of the guys laughed; apparently they'd heard the phase before.

One of the strongest guys in the group besides Colin and Morgan, a boy named Joshua Morgan, looked at Colin and said, "Colin, I've heard you and Roy say that a bunch of times. What the hell's a popper, huh?"

"I don't know," Colin said, suddenly confused. He couldn't concentrate enough to do a thorough search of his memories from this life. Yet he'd said the word so naturally, and he had to know what it meant.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Josh asked in disbelief.

"I don't know what it means, Josh," Colin said, getting frustrated now. "I told you I don't know."

"That's your and Roy's word," Ben said. "How can't you know what it means?"

"Because I can't- I just don't know!" Colin exclaimed. He was getting a little angry at this point, and he was further surprised by the obvious fear and wariness on the faces of the boys around him. They didn't want Colin angry with them. The mere threat of his anger, it seemed, was enough to make them think twice.

"Okay, fine," Josh said, shrugging.

"It's okay, Colin," Jack assured him. "We were just wondering is all."

"Well, just leave it," Roy said. "You guys gotta understand me and Colin had our own words for things as little kids. We still use some of them. A popper's just something really good. I can't believe you didn't figure it out already." Turning his attention back to Colin, Roy said, "I like that idea, Colin. We should do it."

"Yeah," Colin said, trying to smile and reassure himself, eager to get things back to normal.

"I think we'll just walk in on the first day of school and be wearing shirts, but we'll take 'em off right as we come on, and we'll go to class like that's what we always do."

"We don't just lift weights and play football?"

"No," Roy laughed. "We mess around with girls and surf, too."

"Right, how could I forget?" Colin asked, laughing. "Hey, Josh, you think they have beaches like Santa Leona's in Malta?"

"What the fuck is Malta?" Josh asked.

"It's an island in the Mediterranean. A big island."

"Oh. Where's the Mediterranean?"

"Egypt, France, Spain, and Libya all border on it."

"What's Libya? Is it another island?"

"No, it's just- forget it," Colin said, giving up.

"Jeez, I was enjoying the geography quiz, Colin," Ben teased him. "I didn't know this stuff interested you so much."

"You should try reading a book sometime," Colin said.

"Books," Jack scoffed. "I won't ever read something that I don't have to read, and even then I'll just write the dumb paper or pass the test and then forget it."

"I'll just cheat on the damn test," Josh said confidently.

They all went back to the locker room and showered again, which helped restore Colin's spirits. The envious, awed glances the other boys sent his way- some managing to hide it better than others- and the fact that nobody even thought of messing with him made Colin feel better about how things were going. Well, that and the organ swinging between his legs. Man. Roy had been even luckier to be who he was than Colin had thought.

After washing the sweat off him and drying off, Colin looked spectacular. He struck confident poses in front of a mirror, which amused and embarrassed his friends. Roy thought it was the funniest thing ever and did his own poses.

Once Colin had dressed in his shorts again, Ben came by as the guys started to head out. "You've been acting kinda funny lately, Colin, but I'd still kill somebody to be in the shape you are."

"I've got a lot going on," Colin said simply.

"Tryouts, about to start high school, trying to get laid- the usual, right?" Jack said from nearby.

"Yeah, pretty much."

The boys laughed.

"See ya, Colin," Ben said. "See ya, Roy."

"Later, twins," Jack called out as he headed for the door.

"See you tomorrow," Josh said, clapping Roy and Colin on the shoulders as he passed them.

"You ready to head out?" Roy asked, coming over to his twin.

By now, the two boys were alone. Colin looked up at his twin and asked, "Roy, why did I kill that lizard earlier? And- I enjoyed it. Why did I enjoy it?" Seconds later, he added, "What's a popper?"

Roy hesitated before answering. "You know we've tortured and killed animals together, Colin. You remember that."

"Yeah," Colin said, not feeling comfortable with it. He'd been reluctant to examine memories of that and was still unsure what to do about that part of his life.

"You killed that lizard because it was fun. It was a real popper. Don't fight that, Colin. That was you just going back to who you are."

"But I'm Colin Jacobs. I was. I mean-"

Roy moved closer and sat down beside Colin, a terrible look of urgency on his face. He set a hand on each of Colin's muscular shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

"Colin, you have to be quiet about that. No one will ever believe you except me, because I'm the only one who remembers. No one in this life knows who you sometimes still think you are."

"But- I don't know who I am now," Colin said, confused. "Why do we enjoy hurting animals and killing them?"

"Because there's nothing in this world like death."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing at all. We're all killers deep down, Colin. You and I know that very well." Roy spoke faster, keeping his voice down. "It's a take or be taken world, Colin. Everyone's out to get you. Even the animals would get you if they could. Some of them can and they will the second you give them a chance."

Colin reached behind him and felt the horrible, jagged scars on his back, the only thing that marred his otherwise wholesome, youthful looks. He felt a rush of pain and sorrow, of a feeling of misery so strong that he had to look away from his brother.

"We can't count on anyone, Colin," Roy said, keeping his hands in place. "No one but each other. Remember that?"

Colin remembered the old man coming home and stopping the old lady from beating the hell out of her sons any further. He remembered that it was the first time in months that Mr. Borden had even paid attention to the twins, and pretty soon after the incident, he had gone right back to ignoring them. Mom never paid them much attention unless she wanted something, and since the incident, she'd pretty much done that and nothing else. They were the maids and muscle around the house, and that was it.

Suddenly, Colin remembered some other things, too. When he killed something, he felt powerful. Invulnerable. Strong. Like no one could ever hurt him. It meant a lot that he could feel like that, if only for a short while. Ignored by his parents and savagely punished for a mistake he and Roy could not have helped, Colin cared a hell of a lot that he could hurt and kill things and they could not hurt or kill him, because he got them first. It seemed to make him feel better. The lizard… bringing his foot down on its head had made Colin feel incredible. Better than when he'd been working out, even.

He also remembered that he knew well by now that love was not real. Only fraternal love, his love for Roy and Roy's love for him. That made Colin feel good, too.

"I remember," Colin said finally. He touched a hand to his back, shuddering as he felt the smooth, tan skin along with that pale, puckered skin that had never fully healed. "I guess this life isn't all perfect, either."

"It's a lot better with you here," Roy said, and his voice was tense with emotion. "Every day I wake up and I'm thankful you're my brother. I don't know what I'd do without you, Colin."

"What's a popper?"

"Come on, you've heard me say it before."

"Yeah, but- 'nisun' is 'this one', what does popper mean?"

"When we go to the beach and see the girls and they see us, it's a real terrific popper."

"Will I remember what a popper is?"

Roy got real serious, real quick. "Yes. Memories are going to start coming back even when you don't specifically search for them. You're still very new to this and you're remembering a lot at once, so it's going slow."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"Colin," Roy said, "I could. But let's please talk about something else. Anything. When you remember you won't want to anymore. This is too soon, Colin."

"Why haven't we ever, you know, seen anyone about this?"

"What, our problems?" Roy scoffed. "Please, Colin. No fucking shrink can help us." His eyes clouded over. "No one can help us. We have to help ourselves."

Colin remembered him and Roy stabbing a cat through a cage, laughing and giggling as it hissed and screamed at them.

"We'd have to tell them too much," Colin said.

"They'd ask too many questions, and in the end, they'd just hurt us," Roy said with absolute conviction. "We'd lose all our friends. We'll no longer be stars of the football team. Girls will hear that we're weird and are 'getting help'."

Colin wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. He didn't remember everything yet, but it seemed like he had a really good life in many respects, in ways he'd never had before. Maybe it was better to just leave this be until Roy helped him remember everything and really process it.

"Maybe we just need to get laid," Colin said, wanting to lighten the mood. They'd gotten into enough heavy stuff for now, and Colin felt guilty for bringing them both down on such a great day.

Roy cheered up immediately. "Yeah! Oh, yeah! Hell yeah, Colin!" He hugged his brother fiercely. "Just you wait, man. The two of us will get laid this year, I guarantee it."

"No matter what?" Colin asked, and he realized he sounded excited and hopeful.

"No matter what," Roy agreed.

"What if we have to rape someone, like, if we can't get any girl to give it up for us?"

"Colin, do you want to rape someone? Would you like it? Would it feel good?"

The blond, muscular boy tried to envision it, considered telling Roy the dream he'd had. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. Rape was criminal, it was wrong. And yet the Borden twins didn't seem to think it was such a bad thing, deep down.

"If you got a girl for us, wouldn't you share her with me, just like I would with you?" Roy asked. "You wouldn't betray me, would you?"

"Never!" Colin said fiercely, surprised at the emotion and vehemence in his own voice.

Roy smiled. "I think you're going to like this life a lot, Colin. I really do. You're still a little chicken sometimes, but you're manning up every day."

"Thanks," Colin said, still in awe that he was the object of so much respect and affection from the boy he would have given anything to be like in his old life. Somehow, it had happened.

"You're my equal, Colin," Roy said. "You don't need to look up to me." As usual, he had read his twin's mood and thoughts perfectly.

"You remember what my wish was, though," Colin said.

"Yeah. And I wanted you as my blood brother. We're living our dream. Stick with me, Colin, and it won't ever end."

"I don't want it to."

Roy grinned. "Come on. Let's go hit the library and then we're gonna go to the beach until it's dark.

Colin smiled, getting up and heading out of the locker room. "Okay. You still need to tell me what the story behind 'popper' is, though."

"Give it time, Colin. Just trust me, and give it time. You can do that, can't you?"

"Of course."

"Then don't worry about it for now. We've got some research to go do."

"But school hasn't started yet!" Colin said in mock protest.

"Oh, come on, you wanna go see if Mrs. Larkin lets us go in with our shirts off this time or what?"

"She's gonna do it sometime."

"Yeah," Roy grinned. "That's the idea, Colin. Once we get you going and up to speed again, we're gonna do whatever we want. Nobody, and I mean fucking nobody, will ever be able to stop us."

Colin was still afraid of the bad memories, of the pain, the neglect, of the knowledge that he and his idol had happily tortured and killed animals in this life… but he liked a lot of what was going on now. A whole lot. And when Roy got to talking like this, it sounded exciting. It held promises of unknown but incredible, thrilling things, of more than he'd ever done or known in his old life. Colin was confused and afraid sometimes, and that dream worried him. But he trusted and loved Roy, and knew he always had in this life. Things would be all right. They would, one way or the other, as long as he trusted Roy.

 **XX**

They biked over to the library, and Mrs. Larkin wouldn't let them in.

"No shirts, no entry," she said. "We've been over this."

Roy tried to charm her, and Colin tried reasoning, then they switched approaches. None of it worked. They had left their shirts at home again, so they each bought one from a beachfront store, just like last time. Mrs. Larkin let them in then, and Roy eagerly took Colin off to the side.

"I've been thinking about what happened," he said, keeping his voice low. "We need to look for some books on, like, sacrifices and rituals and stuff. It's all just theory but there's got to be something that will help give us an idea."

"An idea? Have you been having ideas again, Roy?" Colin reached over and tapped Roy's head. "I told you not to go and start thinking again."

Roy just reached up and ruffled Colin's straw-blond hair with both hands, and Colin instinctively responded by doing the same thing. They playfully started to grapple, their powerful muscles flexing impressively as they each tried to overpower the other, until someone cleared their throat nearby.

"Hello, Mrs. Larkin," Colin said pleasantly. "How are you today?"

"It would be going better if two boys were doing better at following the rules of the library," Mrs. Larkin said evenly.

"Sorry, Mrs. Larkin," Roy and Colin said together.

Once the librarian had gone back up front, Roy looked at his twin in good-natured reproach. "See what you did?"

"What did I do?"

"You saw it."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

Roy sighed, but after a moment he ruffled Colin's hair and jumped away. It was an affectionate gesture, though, so after he saw Colin wouldn't try to tackle him or grapple with him again, Roy came closer and Colin ruffled his hair, too. They shared a brief hug, delighted simply to be so close with someone. Roy seemed to really, really like this. It amazed Colin how happy Roy was to have him as his twin. It was flattering, and sometimes Colin thought unnecessary. Who was he, after all, next to Roy Borden? But Roy disagreed. He apparently thought Colin was amazing.

"Why do those guys we know not want to talk about anything but girls and sports?" Colin asked curiously.

"Colin, please try to stay focused."

"Seriously, though. Why don't they seem to talk about the things that Steven and Philip do?"

Roy didn't seem entirely pleased to have Steven and Philip brought up, but he brightened up after only a moment. "You know how they are. All the guys on the team are just full-time jocks. They work out and play sports and try to get their hands on some ass all the time."

"They get their hands on plenty of guy ass," Colin said, and Roy laughed. "You're getting a dirty mouth, Colin."

"Ass, tits, pussy, cock, cunt, dick, boobs," Colin whispered. "Balls, cum, fuck."

Roy grinned. "You're getting it."

"How about we go to the beach right now?" Colin asked. "That'd be a popper, wouldn't it?"

Roy stared. "That's twice in a _day_!"

Colin stopped, surprised at himself. "Do I usually say it?"

"We both do," Roy answered him. "Come on, Colin, remember that?"

Colin searched through his mind, and before long recalled that yes, he and his twin shared use of the word 'popper' as another of their 'twinspeak' words. He could not recall where the term came from, but maybe Roy did. It was something really great, and he remembered hearing Roy use it that way many times, back when he had still been Colin Jacobs.

"I remember," Colin said, smiling and nodding. Roy looked pleased, and he relaxed again.

"Okay. You're right. It'd be a real popper if we went to the beach. But how about we get some books out right now and do that once we get done?"

"What books?"

"I told you. Books on creepy occult stuff." He lowered his voice. "We gotta know how this happened to us."

"What'll that do?"

"Knowledge is power," Roy said solemnly. "We both know that."

Roy seemed pretty serious about this, and they had been working on trying to learn more about it. Colin wanted to know, too. He wanted to get to the beach, but Roy wanted to try some research first. It was important to stand by his twin and respect his wishes.

"Okay," Colin agreed. "Where do we start?"

"It's not all just gonna be on one shelf," Roy said. "And I'd rather not go ask old Mrs. Larkin or one of the other librarians. I'd rather not even give a hint what we're up to on this."

"Nobody would believe it anyway."

"But it's still better not to have anyone find out we're interested in that old Kingman place or any weird occult stuff. Wouldn't you say so?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so let's split up. I've got one area I want to check, and there's some shelves you should check, too."

"Which ones?"

Roy got a piece of paper and wrote down some shelf numbers. "I think there might be a good one where I'll check, but we need to cover everything that might be useful."

"Okay." Colin nodded.

They headed off in separate directions; Colin kept the slip of paper in his hand and concentrated. Would he find anything out? Could any of these books really have information on something so incredible?

Colin found the section he was looking for after a few minutes of looking around. He started scanning up and down the shelves, trying to find books that were useful. It was hard trying to really pick those out when you considered that the supernatural event he and Roy had experienced was not even known to be possible. The entire world had shifted; Colin had an entirely different life and was known as a completely different person. But maybe there'd be a book or two that could help give some hints on what had happened. It was better to try and find out.

After a while Colin realized that a pretty girl, about his own age, had walked up to the shelves a few feet away. She was looking at some books too, her head tilted to one side so that she could read the spines. She was wearing shorts, and for a moment he stared at her lovely, slender legs. She had a graceful neck. Her hair was golden.

Colin felt himself stiffening in his shorts, and instinctively kept his head aimed right at the books in front of him. His eyes, though, wandered. Colin felt nervous and excited simultaneously. Roy would have commented on what a great ass she had, on how she was probably a great lay, and Colin understood why he would've said those things. Another part of him thought she was pretty and wanted to work up the courage to go talk to her.

Just as Colin was thinking of turning his head her way, at least thinking of trying to say hi, Roy came up on his left.

"Colin!" he said, keeping his voice low, but as Colin turned to look at Roy, he saw his twin was really excited. Colin's first thought was that his twin must have found something useful among the shelves he'd been checking, which got Colin excited too.

"What?" Colin asked.

"I found a book," Roy whispered.

"In the _library_?" Colin whispered back in mock astonishment.

" _Just come see it_!" Roy hissed, getting frustrated again. "Come on, come _on_."

Colin wanted to try talking to that girl… but he couldn't say it with her nearby. And Roy, who never let a pretty girl pass him by, was too focused to even notice her himself. That meant he'd found something _real_ important. Okay. Colin would go see what that was and maybe he could wrap that up in time to go see about talking to the girl.

He followed Roy between the shelves until they found a table where Roy had some books set up. Colin pulled up a chair behind him, and Roy opened one up, going right to a page he'd marked with an index card.

"Okay, listen to this. 'It has been theorized that some types of blood rituals, it is not enough for a life or lives to be taken. Lives that can be clearly defined as 'innocent' are regarded to be best-suited to ritualistic sacrifice in multiple works of fiction, and at least a handful of cults that have existed in Europe and North America have regarded children or others who have lived "pure" lives as ideal or even necessary for certain blood rituals."

Roy flipped to another page. "Various rumors, theories, legends and types of folklore exist about what a makes a house "haunted" and how such a place can be made. While they vary widely, some common characteristics include the house having spirits, usually those of humans who had once been alive, tied to it by some means. In some instances, the tale or legend specifies that it is because the spirits, when they were mortal, died in the home and did not die peacefully. It is theoretically possible that under the right circumstances- a violent death for instance- some kind of spiritual 'residue' can be left behind, that a person's spirit or some essence of it could take up residence inside a house."

Colin looked at Roy. "You think this is how it happened? It was some kind of blood ritual?"

Roy still had that vibrant, energetic look. "Yeah," he said. "Think about it, Colin. It all fits. Old man Kingman didn't do it with this in mind, but come on. He offs the whole family and takes care of himself. All those innocent lives, all that blood… and then you and I come along and ask for something that both of us want more than anything else in the world. It was an unintentional blood ritual, Colin, but all kinds of things happen whether or not people specifically intended them to happen."

"So because those innocent people were killed there, it left some kind of energy or spirits behind… and that let the house give us what we wanted?"

"But that was all it could do," Roy said. "The place wasn't strong enough to do that for us and remain intact. It knocked us out and caught fire and we had to run like hell to get out of there."

"None of this was on purpose," Colin insisted. "I thought blood rituals had to be done on purpose."

"Didn't we both make that wish on purpose?" Roy asked rhetorically. "Didn't we both absolutely want what we asked for?"

"Yeah," Colin said.

"Kingman just went nuts and chopped up his family. He didn't know it was gonna let two best friends become brothers like they were meant to be all along." Roy's eyes glowed with excitement as he paused, looking intently at Colin, who felt resisted the urge to shiver. "Kingman did his end of it, and we did ours. Even if it wasn't all planned, it happened. That's what counts here."

Colin was stunned. He didn't know what to say. How had something so wonderful happened because something so terrible happened first? Colin didn't know whether to be grateful or guilty. As confused and uncertain as he was, Colin had been thrilled to be given a body, life, and skill set exactly like Roy's. He'd been enjoying himself, falling in love with everything he had now- and it had all been paid for by dead innocents. They had fueled the ritual, made it possible. Colin would still be a skinny, lonely, bespectacled nerd had Kingman never killed those innocent people. Even so, it was an awful way to have it happen. Those people shouldn't have had to die.

Sensing his twin's conflicted mood, Roy put a hand on Colin's shoulder. "There's nothing you should feel bad about. It just happened this way."

"I don't know, Roy."

"Think about it like this, Colin. You and I have always been brothers. Twins. We were always meant to grow up like that and live like that. All the house did was fix that and put it right."

"People got murdered so we could be brothers?"

"We were always brothers, Colin. The blood ritual just made it official for everybody."

"Why do you like me so much?"

"I love you. You're my brother."

"Why do you love me so much?"

"Because you're smart and interesting and awesome," Roy said, his voice low, but gripped tight with emotion. "You're amazing, Colin. I never met anybody like you. You know how I feel about this?" Roy leaned forward and whispered, "I'm so glad this happened I would've chopped up those brats myself."

"I'm really worth all that to you?"

Roy sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You gotta stop being like that."

"Like what?"

"Doubting yourself. You keep doing it. You're coming around some, but you keep going back to that negative self-image you used to be stuck with."

"How do you know I'm not still stuck with it?"

"Because you're starting to adjust. You're really enjoying who you are now. We just need to get you to remember everything and get back to what we were going to be doing."

"What's that?"

"Getting our dicks wet, for one thing," Roy said, and Colin could see even at a glance how irritated and impatient his brother was to lose his virginity. Roy had gone no farther than 2nd base so far, and it really got on his nerves. Colin realized, looking at that absolutely focused look in Roy's eyes, that his twin really would rape a pretty girl or woman if he couldn't charm them into giving him what he wanted soon.

Colin also realized the idea both scared and excited him.

Mostly excited.

Why did a dark, secret part of him really, really want to see the dream he'd had happen?

Why did it feel so natural, so in tune with who Colin Borden was?

"What else?" Colin asked.

"We'll get to that soon."

"When?"

"Soon. Not just yet though."

"What is it?"

Roy paused, looking at his twin for a few moments.

"Colin, what if I told you we're powerful? We both know we're way more than our old man and old lady think. But what if I told you there was a way you could find that out for yourself? There's a lot you need to remember, Colin. I can help you with all of it."

The other boy was silent at first, not sure of what to say. He looked down at the books, at the pages explaining and, though those authors had no idea, backing Roy's theory of the blood ritual that had taken place at the Kingman house.

"What do you mean?"

"You need to remember how powerful you really are. You need my help."

"And you'll- you'll stick with me no matter what?"

"Always."

"I'd like to be powerful," Colin said, confessing a deeply-felt, terrible insecurity from his old life. He wanted to be strong and unafraid of anything or anyone. From the sound of things, he was just like that in this life. Just like Roy. Maybe whatever Roy had in mind wasn't so bad. Maybe it'd be better to try it than to betray Roy and hurt them both badly.

"Don't worry," Roy assured him. "You already are. You just need to remember."

Colin smiled. "I'd like to do that."

Roy smiled back, and Colin could tell he was very pleased. "Me, too. It's you and me, Colin. Us against the world. And the world better watch out."

Colin felt a rush of affection for Roy.

He remembered that Roy had always been there. He had never left Colin's side. He had been there every time that Colin needed him most, and they had gone through some truly awful times together. They endured everything that anyone could send their way, because together, no one could break them.

They spent a few more minutes discussing the blood ritual quietly, each one watching and listening to make sure no one was nearby to overhear. When someone was, they seamlessly switched over to standard haunted houses subjects and speculation.

Then Colin remembered the girl.

"Roy, I gotta go check and see if this girl's still here."

Roy blinked. "Huh?"

"She was foxy, Roy. Foxy as hell." Colin grinned, both as he imagined her and because he realized he was talking like Roy- like Colin Borden. It felt good and right. It fit. From the way Roy chuckled and smiled, it seemed like he agreed. "She was standing a few feet away when you came up to me."

Roy looked astonished he'd missed someone that good-looking. "Wow. I don't know how I missed that. I don't remember any foxy girl."

"I'm gonna go see if she's still here," Colin said. He didn't know if his boldness would hold up if he found her and tried to talk to her- he had a private doubt about that- but he wanted to see if she was still here.

She wasn't. Not where Colin had seen her, not anywhere else in the library. She'd obviously done whatever she'd come to the library to do and gone on her way, oblivious to Colin's attraction to her. It was too bad. She was so pretty.

 _No_ , Colin reprimanded himself. _That's what you used to say. She had nice legs, a great ass. I'd sure like to squeeze her tits. I'd like to stay up all night with her if you know what I mean_. Colin felt himself stiffen and reflected that sex with a hot girl really would do a lot to solve his problems. Help him relax.

 _Maybe we'll have to force the first one, or even the second_ , Colin thought. _But sooner or later these teases are gonna start to give it up. Teenagers have sex all the time in high school and Roy and me will be the first guys they'll want when they open up their legs already. But maybe it won't be so bad if we do a good job in bed with her. She might even enjoy it_.

Colin felt a sudden jolt of guilt as he realized he'd been rationalizing rape. He came back to himself, and wondered for a second what the hell was happening to him. It was scary- no, it was downright terrifying… but it was also exciting. Very, very exciting. It frightened Colin and made him feel he had never been so alive, all at the same time.

Then Roy set a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you find her?" he asked, and Colin turned. "No, she left, I guess. Missed her."

"I put all the books back," Roy said. "Come on."

They left the library, and the instant they stepped out the front door, Roy pulled his shirt over his head. Colin did the same, and turned to admire himself in the refection from the glass of the front doors. Mrs. Larkin was behind the front desk, shaking her head in good-natured reproach.

Colin just smiled and waved.

 **XX**

From the library they went to the beach. Their favorite boards were stored inside a board shop right next to the Pinball Pit, along with two pairs of swim shorts. Colin remembered that the guy who owned Dream Board didn't usually let people keep their stuff with him, but he liked the Borden twins and made an exception for them. Avid surfer boys like them were good for business.

Girls admired Colin as he passed them by. He tried smiling at a few to conceal how nervous he was, and they smiled back. They admired Roy, too, and the twins shared a smile at the attention.

Remembering his natural grace and years of skill on a board helped. Colin wiped out a time or two, particularly early on, but he got the hang of it. He and Roy talked casually with some of the other guys their age during breaks, but Colin was always impatient to hit the waves again. He and Roy stayed out even as the sun began to go down, and Colin loved how the amber sun looked on his tanned skin. He felt so natural out here, so at ease. Balancing himself and steering the board got easier as he remembered more of his talent with surfing, and Colin felt great pride as he saw some people were even taking pictures of the handsome twins riding the waves. As Colin rode a particularly tall wave in, he spotted Laurie, Roy's favorite, and Janet and Kathy, with whom Colin one day hoped to have a three-way. They were dressed in bikinis that showed off their slender legs, classic California complexions, and budding breasts.

Acting without even thinking, Colin shoved at Roy, who was riding the wave beside him. Roy yelped in surprise and fell over, taken down by the wave.

Colin rode the wave in like he owned the whole beach, and posed dramatically, chest out, as he landed on the sand and lifted his board. The three girls and some others who'd been watching applauded, and Janet, Kathy and Laurie were laughing as Roy emerged from the surf, spluttering and indignant. He looked irritated as he approached Colin, but he saw the girls from the Pit and abruptly was stuck between saying hi and telling Colin off. He tried both but wasn't very good at being angry when he was trying to smile and wave.

"Hey, what's up?" Colin said as he approached them, board under his arm. He spoke casually, confidently. He was scared to death underneath, but the Colin Borden façade held as he came up to the girls and smiled.

"Hey, Colin," Janet said.

"Hi, Colin," Kathy said.

"I think you're a little overdressed, Colin," Laurie added.

"Oh, really?" Colin asked, and he started to pull down on the swimming trunks.

"Hey, come on, don't get us in trouble," Janet protested weakly.

"Janet, I am trouble," Colin said. "Trouble's way more exciting."

"I think Colin's right," Kathy said. "Trouble's a lot more fun."

Laurie was enjoying this, and Colin's display had impressed her, but she still favored Roy. She lent him her towel, and Roy made a show of slowly wiping the salt water from his hair and muscular torso. Colin talked with Janet and Kathy, fumbling now and then but getting through it. They laughed at every joke he made and seemed really interested in what he said.

Colin Borden urged him to make some advances and see about getting laid, but Colin Jacobs was too nervous. He was privately grateful when Roy made some nice-sounding excuses and got them headed back to Dream Board before it closed.

"I like them," Colin said after they were out of earshot.

"You know they're just teases," Roy said. "They won't let you touch anything you really want to."

"Looking's not bad, either."

Roy looked at Colin, amused and impressed at the same time. "Yeah. It's not bad. You're getting the idea."

Colin nodded, pleased that he was doing well and impressing Roy. He couldn't wait to go to tryouts tomorrow. He couldn't wait the make the team.

He also couldn't wait for the day when he didn't have to go back to the "home" he had to make do with, that fucking monk's cell.

One day at a time, he reminded himself. One day at a time.

"Let's go hang out at Steven's place a little bit," Roy said as they got on their bikes after leaving the board shop, dressed in jean shorts again, shirts stuffed in the bikes' cupholders. Roy, Colin realized, was looking for an excuse not to go home either.

"Sure," Colin said immediately. He hesitated. "Would that be a popper, too?"

"Yeah," Roy said, grinning. "It'd be a real terrific popper, Colin." He looked happy to be returning to using the word again.

 **XX**

Colin and Roy gave Steven some more coaching on physical fitness once they got there. They worked out with him in the backyard, each boy stripped to the waist. Steven was shining with sweat when they were done, but he looked proud that he'd survived. Colin and Roy ate a late dinner with Steven and his Dad and finally biked home after hanging out in the redhead's room.

The golden-haired girl stuck in Colin's mind, and as he and Roy raced home, competing fiercely as they hurried to a place they didn't even want to go, he got hard thinking about what she probably looked like wearing nothing at all. Colin regretted missing his chance to talk to her. But then, Colin Borden regretted anytime he didn't talk to a hot girl. No opportunity was to be wasted if pussy was a possible reward.

They entered the house quietly, careful not to disturb their jerkoff parents. A list of chores for tomorrow was already on the table. It was cold and mechanical, a set of orders. Not even a "Hope you had a nice day" or "Best of luck at tryouts!". Nothing. Dad hadn't even written a note. He was too busy.

Colin felt terribly lonely as he stood there in the kitchen, in the dark. He hated this. All of it. God, he hated it. Roy hugged him, rightly guessing his twin's mood, and Colin relaxed. He knew he had Roy on his side, no matter what. That meant a lot.

The twins each headed off to take a shower, safe in the knowledge that the running water blended with the background noise of the central air. The old man and the old lady wouldn't wake up and bother them unless they started singing real loud or dropped the soap.

Colin relieved himself as the water heated the bathroom up. He flushed, then tugged at himself, thinking of the girl at the library. Lustful, hungry thoughts and images rushed through his mind, and Colin's hand moved fast, sending pleasure rushing through him. Then he came and it was so good his eardrums bulged. Colin gasped and let out a noise halfway between a grunt and a groan. Once it was over, he sighed happily, his needs met for now. He'd need the real thing soon, but this helped keep him sane at least.

After enjoying a hot, leisurely shower, Colin brushed his teeth and headed back to bed. Roy had already gone to sleep in the upper bunk and was mumbling to himself in his sleep again. Colin paused and searched his memories, and remembered Roy had done that for years. He didn't do it all the time, but often enough. If they joined the Marines or the Army or whatever, Roy might need to break that habit, but he could if he wanted to right now. Colin got so busy thinking about that, he barely noticed what Roy was saying. He tuned back in as he got into bed, and got a shock as he heard what came next.

"Better tell Steve to watch out, Phil… yeah… you too. They never caught me. Never, Phil. Know it'll work. Can killya if I needta… Just like last time."

* * *

 **A/N: 3-19-2017. My first chapter in 13 months. I am sorry for the wait! It was not a lack of interest or inspiration. It was just me being lazy and neglecting a perfectly good story. Please forgive the lack of diligence. You can expect better from me, and I aim to write another update much, much sooner.**

 **To AM83220: THANK YOU. You were the one who gave me the inspiration for this story, and you have reviewed it chapter-by-chapter from the beginning. You have also been incredibly patient with me as I left this story sitting for a year and a month, despite updating existing work and writing new stories all the time during that period. Your feedback and support is invaluable. Thank you for being so patient with me, and I hope this chapter helps to make up for the long wait.**

 **To the anonymous guest reviewer of Chapter 10 from August 1, 2016- Thank you. Thank you so much. I am glad you enjoyed this story so far and would like to see me continue it, and I share your liking for the book and its characters. I don't know if you'll ever see this message at this point, but if you do, I sincerely apologize for the delay in updating this story. I owe you an apology on that as well.**

 **Readers, expect Chapter 12 within the next 30-60 days at the most. Things are moving along as Colin tries to get used to his new life, and Roy works to guide him and return him to who he was in this alternate life. Colin at this point very much retains his old sense of self, but he is becoming better at imitating his 'normal' self in this new life, and is obviously enjoying the perks of being Roy's twin, sharing his looks and talents. At this point, I have written a story longer than the actual novel this is based on, which was right around 200 pages. We are also farther into the summer. But because Colin has experienced a shock like no one else in the world (apart from Roy) and has literally witnessed the supernatural, he has needed time to recover and is relying on Roy to help him. So the story does have some justification, I think, for being longer than the original work.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Colin didn't sleep well. Not at all. The shock of hearing those words from Roy was too much for sleep to come easily. He stayed up for some time, wondering again and again if he should wake Roy up and talk to him about it. Demand answers. He didn't- after considering it a thousand times he didn't- but this was not something he could let go. Colin knew Roy hadn't just been talking nonsense when he said that. He'd claimed he'd killed two people back when he and Colin had been just friends getting to know each other. He'd said he'd killed two, only two. Colin hadn't believed him then. Now… he didn't think it was a joke anymore.

Steven Rose was a great guy. Earnest, funny, loyal. Colin was immensely proud of him for responding so gamely to Colin's efforts to get him to pick up physical fitness, take a serious interest in bettering himself. Colin had liked him immediately and recalled he always had in this life.

Philip Pacino was quieter, but he was a good and thoughtful person. He had the old Colin's thoughtfulness and bookworm habits but was more outgoing, able to make friends. There was nobody better suited to a battle of wits than Philip, and you could trust him with anything. It made perfect sense to Colin why he was friends with him.

And Roy had killed them both. Had Colin checked the newspapers in his old life, he surely would have found the stories. Steven Rose, dead. Philip Pacino, dead. Probably both before Colin and Roy had ever met. And he'd gotten away with it. He'd just murdered them and because he retained the memories of how he did it in that life, Roy had to know for a fact he could get away with it in his one.

Why? Why had he killed two friendly, wonderful guys? Had he taken them in has his friends, earned their trust, and then murdered them for a sick thrill when he got the chance?

Would he have done that to Colin Jacobs had the Change never occurred? Pretended to want his friendship and then killed him for fun, like he did those ants?

The rest Colin did get was fitful and interrupted at random. He was frightened and suspicious. All of a sudden having his same mind in a new body and a very different life wasn't so fun anymore. Roy had kept things from Colin in their old life, and the former bookworm realized that now those things might matter a lot. Colin realized that there was a great deal about Roy that he didn't know, and because of the differences of this life and his old one, not all of the memories would be retrievable. Some secrets only Roy would know.

He was always talking about loyalty. All the time. He'd been so set on him and Colin becoming blood brothers, it had been cool and unnerving at the same time. In fact, Roy had even talked about loyalty to Steven recently! Colin remembered now- he'd said with a straight face that maybe Steven had betrayed him in another life. Steven had laughed it off, not believing Roy despite how serious he'd seemed. Colin thought of that moment and wondered just how deep Roy's anger at whatever betrayal Steven had committed ran. He wondered what the punishment was for letting Roy down.

Death. It didn't matter if you were his friend. If Roy decided you had betrayed him, he killed you. Simple as that.

Why?

Was he going to do that to me? Colin wondered. What if I hadn't taken his offer to be blood brothers? What if I'd jerked my hand back and said no when he went to cut my palm?

Roy had assured Colin that he could trust him absolutely. He had come off as so sincere. Lost and terribly confused since the Change, Colin had leaned heavily on Roy and had been immensely grateful for Roy's aid. His former best friend and hero, now his twin brother, had shown him nothing but affection and even love, welcoming a disoriented and uncertain Colin into his life. Colin had been overwhelmed by all the perks of being who he was now, despite becoming aware of some serious downsides. Lately he had begun to leave his old life behind, feeling his former identity start to slip away as he tried out becoming Colin Borden in full. Colin had enjoyed so much of it.

Now he couldn't help wondering if he hadn't made a terrible mistake giving up his old life. Lonely and myopic though he'd been, Colin had at least had some good, solid morals. Colin Borden was not so principled. That was who he was now, and Colin, as he thought hard on it, could almost feel his new identity eating away at his old one in his brain. He hadn't realized it until now, but he was starting to forget things. His favorite characters' names, books he'd liked that he didn't much bother with now. He did all kinds of things differently, from mannerisms to patterns of speech. It had been new and exciting so far, and thrilled at the benefits, Colin hadn't much minded that he was becoming someone else.

Never had he imagined he would ever think confessing his wish to be like Roy would be a mistake. But then, Colin had never imagined that he'd ever have gotten the chance to try it out in the first place.

But now that he had become a different person and lived in a universe where he had never existed in his old form, Colin was stuck with it. He could never go back. This was who he was now.

Colin didn't now Roy, didn't know his adopted parents, didn't know his friends and didn't know himself. The one thing he had thought was an absolute was Roy, and the mutual trust, love and affection the two boys had for each other.

He wasn't so sure of that now.

Roy had said he aimed for them to each "get pussy by Christmas". Even if they had to commit rape to do it. Was he planning to kill Colin, his twin in this world, if Colin didn't cooperate?

What if Colin did and Roy decided he was displeased about something else?

Colin didn't understand anything. He had gained so much, and it was wonderful. Opportunities beckoned from open doors that had been forever close to Colin before. And yet there was a dark side behind it all, a final door promising terrible and amazing things if only Colin would give in and open it.

The fantasy of watching Roy happily rape a girl, then eagerly taking his turn. The rush of pleasure as Colin killed the lizard.

And Roy's question a lifetime ago: "You ever killed anything?"

At what seemed like the deepest, darkest point in the night, Colin sat up with his legs over the side of the bed, hiding his face in his hands. This had all felt like a dream, a wonderful dream, but now the dream had gone bad. He wanted to talk to someone about this, but no one would believe him when he tried to explain. And what could anybody he told possibly do, anyway? Colin felt the instinctive urge to turn to Roy, his brother, the one who had welcomed him as a friend in his old life and called him brother from the moment they started living this one. Roy, who was always there when Colin needed him.

He couldn't turn to Roy. Knowing that Roy had disposed of Steven and Philip and could do it again was just not something Colin could talk to him about. What would he say? How did he even know Roy wouldn't just deny it?

What if Roy planned on getting rid of Colin if his newfound twin proved more trouble than he was worth?

Colin felt helpless and small. His rippling muscles did him no good against fear and distress; he couldn't physically shove away the confusion in his mind. He wanted to sleep but he couldn't. Colin's fear began running wild, and he began to wonder if Roy wouldn't realize he'd found out about Steven and Philip and kill him while he was asleep.

As the sun began to rise over an hour later, Colin got up and got dressed. He was careful and didn't make any noise, but he couldn't stop the alarm from going off when it did. Colin's heart leapt into his throat, and he was out of there in less than a second. Colin raced down the hallway and headed for the back door. He got out the back door just in time to hear Roy say, "Colin?"

He must have climbed down from his bunk and found Colin missing. Roy sounded confused, worried. For one terrible moment, Colin wanted to leave and stay in equal extremes.

The "leave" side ultimately won out. Colin pulled the back door shut behind him, hurried to his bike, and within moments of mounting it was pedaling the hell out of the yard and down the street.

He had to get away. He had to get out of here. The last person he wanted to see and talk to right now was Roy. Colin rode away from the Borden house, using all his considerable strength and stamina to put a lot of distance behind him quickly.

For the first time since the Change had happened, Colin didn't have anyone to help or guide him. He could not turn to Roy. Roy was a killer. He might even be insane, or a psychopath, or both. Maybe he'd had some plan to manipulate Colin into going through with that "blood brother" ritual, turn them into twins, and make Colin become like him. Colin had once wanted to be like Roy. He'd wanted that more than anything in the world. Even now he had Roy's looks, Roy's athletic talent, Roy's perfect eyes letting him see everything ahead of him, up close and far away, without any need for glasses.

Colin's flawless vision became marred by tears as he pedaled, taking random turns and not much caring where he went. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be away from that house, from that spotless kitchen where the metal dustpan had once ripped into his and Roy's backs as they screamed in pain. From two parents who ignored him no matter how loudly he cried for some kind of attention- any. But most of all, Colin wanted to be away from Roy. He cursed himself for making that wish and handing over what little he'd had. He cursed himself for thinking any of this would ever work out. And he cursed the supernatural forces that had conspired to give him another boy's face.

 **XX**

Colin avoided the places he knew Roy and him usually went. That meant avoiding the library, the Pit, and the beach- at least the stretches of it that Colin and Roy usually went to. But Colin didn't want to go to the beach right now, anyway. He was struggling to maintain his composure, and he didn't want to have that tested by being around large numbers of people right now.

He thought about going to Steven's place and warning him, or Philip's. Or both. But that… he couldn't do that. For some reason, Colin knew that was going too far. For one thing, Roy had never tried to kill them in this life. Neither guy would know what Colin was talking about. And even if they believed him- and that was a pretty big if- Colin would have to… do what? Hide out there, protect them from Roy? Have all three of them sent into witness protection?

Please. That wasn't happening.

Roy would be too smart to not check at Steven and Philip's, anyway. He'd probably call them or drop by and visit, acting casual, as he worked to hunt down his escaped brother.

Maybe he'd already done that.

Colin wandered Santa Leona on his bike for over an hour, eventually realizing he was skipping football tryouts. He was also forcing Roy to skip them, because his twin would never be able to concentrate on that while Colin was missing. No. Roy was looking for him, and Coach Molinoff was missing two of his best prospective players. Colin wondered if they'd even be able to make the team after this. He wasn't sure of anything now.

Eventually, Colin made it all the way out to Sandman's Cove. He had been here before, to these beautiful orange cliffs, looking out over the rocks and the ocean below. Colin searched his memory and recalled sitting out here with Roy, Phil, and Steven one time back in May. He was careful not to think about what he'd been doing that same day as Colin Jacobs. Fear of making his head feel like it was splitting apart again had made Colin wary of thinking about his old life and his new one too closely when it came to memories.

They loved this place, the four of them. Steven liked it best and was always making jokes while they chucked rocks and watched the sun set.

Colin parked his bike behind him and sat near the edge, watching the ocean. The sun beat down on him, and Colin unconsciously took his shirt off, not wanting to mess up his gorgeous tan by keeping it on.

This was like something out of one of the novels Colin used to read. The impossible had happened, and while Colin remembered his life up to the Change, it didn't matter because no one else but Roy did. Colin still somewhat thought of himself as Colin Jacobs, and right now was consciously thinking as him. But Colin Jacobs wasn't real anymore. He didn't exist.

It was like Colin had died, but he was still alive, able to witness a world in which he had never been. He'd made his wish and gotten it, and there was no chance to take it back now.

Colin had a lifetime of memories he still knew little about. He had jagged, ugly scars on his back that testified to the horrific abuse he and Roy had suffered that day at the hands of Mrs. Borden. Even thinking of her gave Colin a surge of hatred, an emotion that came to him much more easily in this life.

The scars… Colin reached back and felt them, briefly wondering what had led to that. There was something that had happened before that beating, something that had led to it… Suddenly Colin jerked his hand away like it had been burned. He didn't want to think about that. He really, really didn't want to. It was bad enough that Roy was a murderer. He didn't want to be one, too.

 _What the hell does that mean?_

 _Nothing._

 _Doesn't sound like nothing._

 _Just shut up._

 _Are you sure you don't want to think about it? Colin, how'd you really get those scars? What did you and Roy do? How about we go back and-_

 _NO!_

Colin abruptly gave a powerful shove in his mind, rejecting those thoughts, silencing them.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to be a murderer.

The ocean was out there, waves crashing against the rocks. Colin wondered if it wouldn't be better to just fall, to scoot off the edge. There would be no more loneliness, no more pain, no more nightmares. No more conflicting memories and senses of identity.

But Colin didn't do it. He thought about it, tempted himself by thinking of how it'd all be over in just a few moments. And he thought about it while seated here on the cliff looking over Sandman's Cove. Colin didn't jump off. He didn't even try.

One thing that stopped him every time he started to move was Roy. He kept thinking of how both of them had confessed their deepest, most fervent wish, and that Roy's had been to be brothers, real, actual brothers, with the introverted loser, Colin Jacobs. Roy had seen something in him that Colin didn't even see in himself. He'd spared Colin from a doomed existence, a life in which he had and was nothing.

Colin hated and feared Roy right now, but the sincerity in his voice when he'd made that wish, and the constant assurances of affection and trust Roy had given since the change… it was enough to stop Colin from jumping. He just could not do it. Whatever Roy was, he would not be able to bear the pain if Colin killed himself. Roy would follow soon after, and Colin wasn't sure he could live with that. And yet he wanted Roy gone. He wanted to rid himself of these damn muscles, his wholesome good looks, his absolutely identical resemblance to Roy Borden. It was so contradictory, and it was right in line with the rest of what was going on in Colin's mind. His emotions were in an uproar. He missed his old life, and yet he didn't miss it at all. He was glad he wasn't Colin Jacobs and that nobody knew him as that little bookworm, and yet maybe he'd underestimated who he was then. Maybe he'd given it all up too soon.

Weezy had never been around. Even when he'd seen her, she'd been busy, always busy. Frank had scared Colin, and it was scarier that he actually liked and respected Colin in this life. That meant Colin Borden was shaping up to be a real man's man. Oh, good. How proud Frank Jacobs would be if he could know Colin had quite literally turned into someone else, into someone infinitely cooler and more manly.

Being manly was great. Colin liked it. It was a popper. A real terrific popper.

That word. That fucking word.

Colin liked it- he _loved_ it!- and he hated it just as much. He was afraid of the story behind it, and it was dawning on him that there most definitely was one.

He didn't want to know. He didn't want to be a murderer.

The killings he'd done with Roy in this life, before the Change but also after it, had filled Colin with pleasure and joy. He remembered trapping Fluffy in that bird cage that Mrs. Borden never got rid of after her goddamned parrot died, even though she never got another one. Colin had happily killed it alongside Roy; they'd done it together and disposed of the body together, cleaned up the mess together. Colin closed his eyes, remembering the peace that had brought him. All the shitty things in his life hadn't bothered him for a little while after that. Not for a week at least. Maybe two, maybe more.

Torturing that cat, mocking it as it hissed and screamed, had made Colin very happy. Roy had loved it, too. They were twins, bonded as closely as they looked. They loved all the same things and hated all the same things- and all the same people. Colin hated that fucking old lady who'd beaten him until blood was running down his back in rivers. He hated the fact that he hadn't shielded Roy and taken it all for both of them, but she'd just threatened to make it worse.

"I never killed anybody. I never killed anybody," Colin whispered, tears filling his eyes. "I'm not a murderer."

 _The scars say otherwise, Colin._

 _NO! NO, I'M NOT!_

Colin gave another shove in his mind, and he wondered desperately why any of this had happened. Was he going crazy? Had he burned to death in that house and this was just some kind of confusing, weird-as-hell prelude to the afterlife?

I sure hope there's pussy there, if that's the case. Colin Borden thought that casually, slyly. Colin Borden was a real horny boy, really ready to stay up late and party. Colin Jacobs personally thought that just holding hands would be great. Kissing would be wonderful. A night out in a grassy field somewhere, or out on a deserted beach, looking up at the stars and kissing anytime they felt like it… that sounded like heaven on earth.

But sex would bring relief. Sweet, sweet relief. Not only would it satisfy these hormones that were making Colin need to jerk off all the time just to keep from going crazy, but it would help. That sense of peace he remembered feeling after each time he and Roy had killed an animal- Colin was very sure that sex would be even better than that.

And killing somebody would be even better than THAT, you better believe it!

Colin abruptly got up and got on his bike. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't want to be at Sandman's Cove anymore. He'd looked at the ocean enough.

It reminded him too much of all the happy memories he had as a surfer kid in this life. And what that really meant was, it reminded him too much of Roy.

 **XX**

Colin hadn't eaten anything for breakfast; he'd been too slow to leave the house and thus had to leave in a hurry when Roy woke up. His stomach growled as he biked onward from the cove. Colin's body was much bigger and more powerful, more active, than it had been before the Change. A powerful, muscular frame needed a lot of fuel, and Colin had given it none. He didn't have any money with him, and he didn't dare go home. Colin wasn't sure who to ask or how to beg for food. When he was hungry, he'd always teamed up with Roy and the two had fed themselves.

Why was there not a single memory where he didn't have Roy there? Why did he have to have Roy's hair, his muscular limbs, his handsome face? There was, as the song said, nowhere to run to, baby. Nowhere to hide. Colin was trying it anyway, but he knew he didn't have anywhere to go. He'd have to face Roy sometime.

But he could make "sometime" be put off for quite a while.

Colin biked back into town and passed the library. He glanced inside, and got a jolt of fear when he saw Roy in there, talking to Mrs. Larkin. His back was to the street, and Mrs. Larkin was looking at Roy so she didn't see Colin. And he was only in front of the library's glass doors for a second or two. Even so, Colin was scared to death. He pedaled faster, determined to get away before Roy found him.

He cycled all the way to the eastern end of Central Avenue, then continued east on Santa Leona Road. In the hills beyond town, he turned onto a narrow dirt lane, figuring Roy would be searching all the paved roads first. He followed the dirt lane down one flank of a shallow glen and up the other. On both sides of the dusty track, wildflowers shone like blue and red flames in the tall, dry grass.

It was getting well into the afternoon now. Colin had been gone for hours. He had no idea what time it was, since he had forgotten his damn watch, but it was probably two or three. Colin wanted twilight to get here quick. This close to the sea, the twilight hour lasted about fifteen minutes. Colin didn't mind the dark like he had before the Change. It hid him from people he didn't want to be found by, let him go places and do things unnoticed.

And right now, since he didn't want to be found by Roy, Colin could not wait for darkness to come and reclaim the land. Once it got dark, Colin was sure Roy would never find him.

Of course, he was getting so hungry that he might not even last that long.

Colin rounded a curve that lay in shadows cast by several eucalyptus trees. The dirt lane ended fifty yards beyond the curve, in the middle of an automobile graveyard.

A one-story clapboard building, more shack than house, overlooked two hundred or more decaying automobiles that were strewn across a few acres of the grassy hilltop. There were only American makes- most of them came from a time when that was about all that was available. Japan was still bombed to shit when the oldest ones here were new, and Germany wasn't any better off. Colin spotted Chevrolets, Buicks, Cadillacs, Oldsmobiles and Pontiacs. GMC trucks and Chevrolet trucks. Fords, Dodges, Chryslers and Plymouths. Colin saw four Mercury cars all grouped together, and next to them, of all things, a 1957 DeSoto.

Colin hadn't had anything to drink in hours, and his heavily-muscled frame was sweating a decent amount of it off. All the same, he had to go. Colin found a car, unzipped his shorts, and urinated. He blushed as he glanced down and got a look at his size again. That was supposed to make him proud, having bigger sexual organs. Colin didn't know what he thought of it now.

Once he was done, Colin zipped himself back up and wandered the auto graveyard. He passed some long, shining pieces of flat, corrugated steel, and reflected briefly that they were just wide enough to put a car or truck's wheels on. You could roll it along on those lengths of steel much better than you could on the ground.

Tired, hungry, and thirsty, Colin found a spigot near the back of old Hermit Hobson's place. He turned it on and some dirty, rusty-looking water spewed out. It cleared out after a few moments, though, and once it was running good and clean, Colin dropped to his knees and drank greedily, gulping at the stream and not caring if this was meant as drinking water or not. God, it tasted good. He needed it so much.

Colin walked his bike around the auto graveyard aimlessly. He stopped here and there, looking at different cars, wondering what they'd been back in the day, who had owned them, where they'd gone.

Eventually, Colin found an old Chevrolet; the fading manufacturer's plate on the driver's door frame said it was a 1947. Some ruined seats were actually still in it, and Colin parked his bike and got inside, hiding in the back. He wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking slowly forward and backward.

"What is happening to me?" Colin asked quietly.

He didn't feel himself anymore. He felt more and more like two different people were in his head, like he was two different Colins and both of them wanted to be in charge. Colin Jacobs, quiet and bookish, but smart and even witty sometimes. Colin Borden, masculine and witty as hell, as smart as Colin Jacobs beyond a doubt. Superior to Colin Jacobs beyond a doubt.

Yet blood was on that boy's hands. Colin didn't want that. He didn't want these scars on his back.

He didn't want to know who Belinda was.

He didn't want to be a murderer.

Colin's mind was slipping and struggling. He was unable to shake an eerie feeling that he was literally forgetting who he was. He didn't know Colin Borden that well, yet Colin Jacobs- he was fading away. He existed only in Colin's pre-Change memories, and in Roy's. In this 1980 no one had ever known him.

It was like Colin had died.

Except he was still alive.

Smarter, sexier, faster, stronger.

And colder. Crueler. He was nothing but an animal, a vicious, dangerous animal. Colin felt such immense self-loathing, he had to gasp and take in air, had to remind himself to breathe. He was a terrible, terrible person. Something was horribly wrong with him.

 _But you are powerful. Roy said so. Powerful like nobody you ever saw._

 _What, is that cock I got? Those balls?_

 _No, that's just gonna make you powerful in bed. What Roy meant was you're unstoppable. Invincible. You can have the power of a god in your hands. You just have to remember what you and Roy know how to do._

"I don't," Colin said, shutting his eyes as he started to cry. "I don't. I don't want to be a murderer."

 _It's too late for that, Colin. You and Roy crossed that bridge a long time ago_.

What in the hell did that mean? This wasn't supposed to be happening. Colin couldn't understand how he'd ever been so wrong. He had always thought that those kids he admired- those golden, blue-eyed, strong-limbed California boys and girls- were a race above all others, superior creatures who glided through life with perfect self-confidence, with an unshakable sense of worth and purpose. Once, he might have been pleased and dismayed at once to discover this crack in the myth. He suddenly realized that those special, radiant kids- the Roy Bordens of the world, in a word- were not really so different from him, that they were not so superior as he had thought they were. This discovery would have buoyed him, made Colin Jacobs feel better about himself. Or maybe it would have just done what it was doing now, making Colin feel as if he had lost something important- a pleasant illusion that, at times, had warmed him.

Colin had thought that if he could just be remade in Roy's image, become like him and have all the things he had, that his life would be perfect. He had honestly assumed Roy's life was as perfect as he looked.

It was absolutely crushing to find out life was just as shitty even if everybody thought you were amazing and handsome.

There was no escape. No relief. No happiness.

Life wasn't just sad sometimes. Life was just shit.

Colin remembered going to the cemetery. He remembered- the girl! The pretty girl! He still didn't know her name, and realized he'd never learned it. But she'd found him and Roy going to or coming from the graveyard, because she lived nearby. Colin remembered she'd been friendly, saying it was nice how Colin and Roy visited all the time. Colin had gotten mad and started shouting at her, and Roy had told her to get out of their sight. She'd gone, looking bewildered and a little scared.

The dead sister. Belinda Jane Borden. Colin remembered her, remembered the headstone with the name etched on its front. The name of the sister Colin and Roy had murdered. They had crossed the line that day and they could never, ever go back. They were murders now, animals.

Not an accident. Not at all.

A crime. Murder. Roy and Colin had killed their baby sister.

It played out in Colin's mind like six years ago was yesterday.

An eight-year-old boy finds his father's car keys on the kitchen counter. He tells his brother, the boy who looks so much like him it's the same as glancing in a mirror. They get it in their heads to take a ride around the block. That'll prove that they're bigger and better than anyone gives them credit for. It'll prove they're even big enough to play with Dad's trains, or at least big enough to sit at Dad's side and just watch the trains, which is something they're not permitted to do but want to very badly. The car is parked in the driveway. It's a big done, a navy blue Oldsmobile Delta 88, just four years old. The two boys go out to it and put a pillow on the seat so Roy can reach the steering wheel. Colin says he can work the pedals when Roy discovers that he can't quite reach the brake or the accelerator. They don't need to search for a tool to work the pedals since there's two of them, a team. This makes them both very happy. Colin can't sit up there with Roy, but he wants to see Roy get to drive. So he says he'll sit down there on the floor and hit the pedals that Roy tells him to, whenever Roy says.

Roy gets up on the wide bench seat and puts both hands on the steering wheel. He puts the keys in the slot and pulls the big, heavy driver's door shut with a clunk. Roy starts the engine and fumbles with the gearshift, a dark-colored thing sticking off the same column that the steering wheel is on. Colin is really, really excited. Both of them are. They're about to go drive an Oldsmobile.

Mom hears. She comes out of the house. She makes it outside in time to see her little girl walk behind the big four-door car. She shouts at the two boys inside it, the girl behind it. Roy waves at her. The girl waves at her. Colin pops up to wave at her, then goes back to standing by to work the pedals.

Roy finally gets the gearshift right and throws the Olds into reverse as the mother rushes toward them, and he yells excitedly at Colin to hit the gas, hit the gas! Colin slams both hands down on the long accelerator pedal, and the big, heavy car goes backward. Fast. Just shoots backward. Strikes the child. She goes down hard. Goes down with one short scream. A tire thumps across her fragile skull. Her head bursts like a blood-filled balloon. And when the men in the ambulance arrive, they find the mother sitting on the lawn, legs akimbo, face blank saying the same things over and over again. "It just popped. Just popped open. Just like that. Her little head. It just popped."

Popped.

Popper.

The memory ended after that. Colin and Roy… they had been… they could never find any words. They never talked about it. But that had been a change for them. The biggest change their lives had ever known. They'd become killers that day and would be for the rest of their lives.

Mom had never forgiven them. When they'd come inside, happy and laughing, on that fateful day a few years later, she'd beaten them both until they bled, and then she'd kept on going until Dad had come home and stopped her. The doctors had done what they could but the boys' backs were never the same. The muscle and bone- that survived. They were not crippled. But the jagged, ugly scars never fully healed and would remain for good. A reminder of the black-hearted crime the two boys had committed. Murder. Murder. Murder.

Colin balled up in the back of the Chevrolet, crying so hard he was almost hysterical. He wished he could switch off the memories. He wished he could switch off his mind.

This was unbearable. He wished he had died in the Kingman house… just so he could be spared the pain.

After hiding in the back of that ruined car for a long time, slowly struggling to get himself under control, Colin suddenly sat bolt upright as he heard a voice. He knew that voice. It sounded just like his, and it was calling his name. Oh, no.

Roy had found him.

"Colin?" Roy shouted. "Colin!"

Colin sank as low as he could in the back of the Chevrolet.

"Please, Colin! Come out! I just want to see you! I just wanna know you're okay!"

 _No. Please go away. Get away from me. I don't want to even see you_.

Not even the anguish and fear in Roy's voice could make Colin answer him.

"I don't know what I did," Roy yelled, "but whatever it is, I'm sorry!"

Colin stayed hidden. He realized, too late, that he had left his bike leaned up against the car. There wasn't much chance of exiting the vehicle and getting his bike and riding out of here. Roy was too smart, too watchful. He would see or hear something.

But Colin, going mad with the agony in his head and his heart, with the unspeakable torment of a dying Colin Jacobs fighting with a miserable Colin Borden, realized that he could still do something. He braced himself to get up, placing his hands on the floor of the Chevrolet… and as he did so, his right hand found a tire iron.

 **XX**

Roy went around the junkyard for what seemed like forever, calling out to Colin, pleading, apologizing. At one point he stopped, and Colin thought he had given up and gone away. But as he exited the Chevrolet and began to creep silently towards where he'd last heard Roy, he heard weeping. Roy had his face in his hands and his muscular shoulders shook with the force of his sobs.

How Roy had tracked him here, Colin had no idea. Maybe someone had seen Colin heading out here and Roy had talked to them and been told what he needed to know. Maybe he'd just guessed. Or maybe he had just followed his gut, his instinct, listening only to his emotions and his powerful love for his brother. Maybe Roy had just known Colin would be here because that was where he would go himself.

But Colin was not Roy's brother. Not as he made his way towards Roy, a tire iron in hand. He was a scared boy going insane with rage and sorrow, and if he could not hide from Roy, he would make him go away through other means.

Colin emerged from cover just as Roy lowered his hands, and he started to call out again. Roy saw his twin, and at first he almost collapsed with relief.

Then Colin rushed at him, and Roy almost didn't duck in time. His eyes went wide and he fell to the ground, and the tire iron slammed into the old Cadillac so hard it sounded like a gun went off.

"Fuck!" Colin screamed, letting go of the tire iron and gripping his hand in agony. The shock of the blow had been transferred up through the tool and into his flesh.

"Colin!" Roy cried out. "Colin, what're you doing?"

Colin had never heard him sound so frightened.

The boy who'd been cursed with Roy Borden's handsome face didn't speak. He grabbed the tire iron off the ground, turned to Roy as he scrambled away, and swung it at him. He hissed in fury as Roy got away again, tripping and stumbling, babbling incoherently.

"Hold still!" Colin yelled.

"Colin! Colin, stop!"

"You fucking liar!" Colin bellowed. "You piece of shit! You lied to me!"

"What? Colin, I'd never lie to you!"

Colin swung again, shattering a window as Roy dodged.

"I fucking hate you!"

"Colin, I'll make it right! I swear!"

"I wish I'd done this when we first met! I trusted you! I thought you were my friend! I WISH I'D NEVER MET YOU!"

Colin dented a Plymouth as he slammed the tire iron into it, and Roy got out of the way one more time. Then he turned and Roy was just standing there. His shoulders were shaking again, and tears streamed down his handsome, suntanned face.

"Run," Colin hissed.

"No."

"I said run, Roy. Get away from me!"

"No."

Enraged beyond thought, Colin sprang forward like a big cat, grabbing Roy by the throat with one hand and slamming him up against the side of a Pontiac. With the other, he raised the tire iron, getting ready to strike.

"I'm going crazy, Roy," Colin said. "I told you to go. I don't want to see you ever again!"

"Please, Colin, I don't even know what I did!"

"You killed Steven and Philip. You were their friend and you murdered them!"

"They're alive! Colin, we're both _friends_ with them!"

"Before," Colin hissed, squeezing harder. "Don't you lie to me. You talk in your sleep and you said you killed them before the Change." He leaned in close and said, "Remember that?"

Roy stared at him in horror. "I-I-Colin, I had-it was- I had to. Self-defense. They-they turned on me. I couldn't trust them anymore."

"I guess you were gonna get around to me too, huh?"

"No, Colin! I'd die before I'd hurt you. I love you."

That only made Colin angrier. "You don't even know what it is. You said yourself it's not even real! I should kill you for doing this to me! I'm trapped! No one even knows I exist! It's like I'm dead, but I didn't even get to die!"

Colin stared at him, still gripping the tire iron. "You turned me into an animal, Roy. I should give you what you deserve."

Roy nodded, still crying. "Do it," he said. "You can leave my body here. Nobody'll ever have proof you did it. Just hide the tire iron."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't want you to get caught."

"Why the fuck do you care? I'm gonna kill you."

Roy looked up at him with such a look of pain and anguish that Colin was shocked out of the blind rage he'd been in. Stopped short of going into total savagery, Colin looked- really looked- and saw the despair in Roy's eyes. He saw fear, and a deep, abiding loneliness. For the first time since Colin had known him in either life, Roy looked like a child, the child he really was. He was scared and helpless and some part of him, Colin realized, was begging to be killed.

"You want me to kill you," Colin breathed in amazement. "Why? Why, Roy?"

"I love you," Roy sobbed. "You wish you'd never met me? Kill me. I don't wanna live if you don't want what you wished for, Colin." He gasped, struggling to speak. "I don't wanna live if you don't want us to be brothers."

Colin wanted to raise the tire iron and bring it down. He knew just how to break Roy's skull and kill him. His brain kept telling his right arm to do it already, but the blow never came. His arm never moved.

"Please, Colin, just make it quick."

A dark voice, low and savage, told Colin to make it as slow or quick as he liked. But above all, to do it. To kill Roy and take that final step and let the voice of the night take full charge of him and whatever he did next.

But memories started to flood through him. Football games. Working out. Smuggling their first porn magazines into the house. Working out some more. Playing volleyball, soccer, football, basketball. Playing arcade games at the Pit. Messing around with girls behind the pit. A lifetime of athletics fanaticism and relying on no one but themselves. Of always being there for the other. Twins bonded so closely that for each one, life without the other was unbearable.

Roy was telling the truth. He had meant it every time he'd told Colin he loved him. All the affection and concern he'd showed, supporting and guiding Colin since the Change- it had been real. Colin's words had cut deep just now, and Roy was deeply grieved for having hurt his brother. And he saw Colin as his brother, his friend, his equal. Maybe he always had. He'd seen through Colin's exterior flaws, the surface shortcomings that most never got past or tried to.

Maybe Roy had seen not what Colin was when they'd met, but what he could be.

The possibilities had been too tempting, the potential too great to ignore.

And underneath his showy, confident exterior, a desperate, pitifully lonely Roy had been crying out for a friend, a blood brother. He had looked for one, perhaps first tried to secure one in Steven and Philip, and killed them when they refused, fearful of being hurt and betrayed. And when he'd found Colin, Roy must have had some instinct that this was the one. As their friendship developed, Roy had gotten to like Colin immensely. So much so that beneath it all, Roy began to wish that they could be brothers for real and that they could have known each other all their lives. The one thing he had wanted most in the world was to be Colin's brother from birth. He'd asked for that. Not money, not power, not women. Roy had asked for Colin to be his brother. His most fervent wish had been almost identical to Colin's, just phrased differently.

Colin suddenly felt all the tension go out of him, and he dropped to his knees, letting go of the tire iron. Colin began to cry, wailing helplessly as he rocked back and forth, unable to even look at Roy. What was happening to him? What had he almost _done_?

Roy was there. As if Colin had never shown such unbridled rage, as if Colin had never said so many hurtful, vicious things while trying to kill him, Roy got down beside Colin and held him. Colin reached for him, and they held each other, crying, sobbing. Hurt, terribly hurt, just wanting the pain to stop, but knowing it never would.

"I'm sorry," Colin said, over and over. "I'm sorry, Roy. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Roy hugged him as he wept, and Colin buried his face against Roy's shoulder. His twin cried, unable to speak, but trying to say all was forgiven. That it was okay.

It was a long time before either of them began to calm down. What had just happened was excruciating for both of them. Alone, completely alone in the world, they could rely on and trust no one but each other. Savage, cruel animals, they had to watch out, because everyone was out to get them. They had to be ready. They had to be tough. But they each needed someone to turn to. Each twin was the other's entire emotional support system. They were each other's only friend and confidant. When each boy was hurt or confused or needed help in any way, he turned to his twin. Colin felt a little more of his old self slip away, and he let it go gladly. His old life had really not been that great. And even before the Change, Roy had been his best friend. His only friend. He'd come so close to making a terrible mistake, and Roy had just stood there and said he'd rather die than live without Colin's friendship.

"Help me, Roy," Colin begged. "I'm going crazy. I need help. I can't even go to anyone else. I don't exist. Please. Please. Help me."

Roy let out a pained wail and hugged Colin tighter. He felt like he'd done something horribly wrong, like he'd failed somehow. Roy, Colin realized, had to have been feeling responsible for Colin, for taking care of him since the Change, as he found his way around a confusing new world and life. Today, disaster had almost struck, and Roy felt responsible for letting it come so close.

Eventually, they slumped against the Pontiac, exhausted and miserable.

"I remembered about Belinda," Colin said.

"I knew you would. Sooner or later."

"We murdered her, Roy."

"Yes. We did."

"Mom never forgave us."

"She's a bitch. But, honestly… would _you_ forgive us?"

"No."

"Me neither."

Colin felt a little sigh within him as they both acknowledged that. The insanity was fading away, and Colin Borden and Colin Jacobs united a little bit more. Even if some parts of this life sucked, he was stuck with it, and… he felt better knowing he was at least making sense of it.

He felt so bad for hurting Roy with the words he'd said. For trying to kill him. He kept trying to apologize, and Roy kept insisting it was okay.

"We kill animals for fun, Roy."

"Don't you feel better afterwards?"

"Yes," Colin admitted. "I remember that."

"Could you imagine how good it'd feel after you fucked or killed somebody?"

"What if we raped someone and then killed her?"

 _Why did I even ask that?_

 _Why not?_

"Even better. Both things at once."

"Why do we do this, Roy? What's wrong with us?"

"It's what we do, Colin. It's just what we are. If we didn't do it we'd go insane."

"There's nothing else?"

"What, talk to someone? It'll never work, Colin. No chance. They'd just lock us up in a padded room and we'd never see each other or the beach or the girls again. We'd have to give up everything and it still wouldn't do us any good."

Colin had held out some brief hope that he and Roy could find help. Something to relieve the pain. Was it possible Roy was right, though? That this was the only way they could survive?

"So that's what you did, huh? You killed animals for fun?"

"Then I felt better, and everything was okay for a while." Roy sighed. "It never lasted long enough, though."

"Will it help if I try it?" Colin was scared. He still didn't like it. But he was so desperate and afraid of losing his mind again that just about anything sounded like a good idea now, so long as it helped.

"You know it's helped. It's a lot of fun, Colin. It's not a big deal like you think."

Colin Jacobs' morals protested, screamed out silently against that. Rebelled against the idea of torture and killing for fun- animals or, worse, people. Refused to even consider rape. This was wrong, as wrong as it could be.

But Colin, while he was still Colin Jacobs in some ways, knew that he was never going to be his old self again. He was changing. His old life was slipping away. He needed to let some things go, and… he did remember feeling better after they'd killed something. The lizard- even that had helped for a short time, though not like the bigger animals. Colin was afraid of what he was becoming. It frightened him that he had all this rage and anguish in him. But he had to end it somehow, and if he couldn't, he had to control it. Roy at least had a proven way of doing just that.

Anything was better than doing what he'd almost done just now. Colin needed Roy very badly. Even if he killed him in a fit of rage, it would do him no good. The only person who remembered who he'd once been would be dead, and Colin's loneliness would become truly unbearable. He needed Roy, and Roy needed him. That was how things were.

Colin's stomach growled.

"Hungry?"

"I haven't eaten anything all day."

"I was afraid of that."

"We missed tryouts."

"How do you know I did?"

"You went looking for me right when you saw my bike was missing and you didn't stop until you got here." Colin paused. "Am I wrong?"

Roy laughed. "No. You're not."

"I'm sorry we missed tryouts. I hope we can still make the team."

"I called the school and told them we couldn't make it. I said you were barfing in the bathroom."

Colin laughed. "Wow."

"Do you feel better?"

"I'm hungry and tired and I need to get laid."

"I meant are you better now."

"Haven't had a good fuck yet and it's driving me crazy."

"Seriously."

"I'm being serious."

"Jeez."

"That's my word."

Roy laughed and hugged Colin. "I guess going crazy for a minute still can't make you stop being a wiseass."

"Was I always this way?"

"Generally, yeah. A little more so since the Change. But you've always been you. We look alike and do the same things, but our personalities are still a lot like before."

"Listen to you, sounding all scientific."

"Just because I'm an athlete doesn't mean I'm dumb."

"You could've fooled me."

Roy laughed again. "Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"You're the reason Steven and Philip are alive today. You saved their lives by making that wish. Because I never tried to ask them to be my blood brother, they never got to say no. And since I never got to the point where I couldn't trust them anymore, I've always been friends with them, and so have you."

"Did you really enjoy it when you killed them?"

"Yes. But I had to do it. The enjoyment was just a perk. After they turned on me, I couldn't trust them anymore. I never would've done it otherwise. Not to them."

"I want to help them. We need to get them both to start lifting weights. They need to take care of their bodies, Roy."

"Consider it done. I don't think we're gonna make athletes out of them, but we can at least help their self-esteem and everything. Stuff like that."

"What do you think sex is like, Roy?"

"Well, generally, the guy takes his cock and puts it in this wet, dark, slimy hole, and he moves it back and forth. He keeps doing that 'till he either gets her pregnant or leaves come all over her tits."

"They didn't tell us that in sex ed class in junior high."

"Colin, they basically said if we ever had sex our dicks would fall off."

"I need that! It can't fall off!"

"Lucky for you yours is so small you wouldn't notice anyway."

Colin laughed. "You know that's not true."

"I know no such thing."

"Don't you go talking fancy."

"I was inspired by this smart kid I know."

"I'm inspiring to you?"

"You bet."

"Thanks."

"Sure." Roy paused. "Listen, I really did mean everything I said, Colin. I guess I should have told you some things sooner. It all started coming back anyway and you just about went crazy. But I'd never, ever lie to you. I'll never let you down, Colin. You need me, I'm there. If you need my help and I don't show up running like hell, it's because I died trying to get to you. I love you. I thought you were basically a fucking rockstar from the day I met you. You're my hero, Colin. I can't even say how glad I am we're brothers."

"What am I supposed to say to that?"

"Anything you want."

"I'm _really_ that big a deal to you?"

"You know you are."

Colin's stomach growled again. Roy sat up. He stood, reaching down to Colin with his right hand. Colin took it, and Roy pulled him to his feet.

"Let's go get something to eat," Roy said.

"I'm really sorry I- tried to hurt you."

"It's all right." Roy hugged Colin tightly, and Colin hugged him back as if he could not bear to let him go. "You were lost, Colin. You were in pain. I saw this look in your eyes; you were going crazy. You weren't really yourself."

"I wasn't," Colin said. "I'm scared it'll happen again."

"I'll help you. I'll make sure it doesn't."

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

The two boys got their bikes and rode out of the junkyard. Roy had brought some money with him, and Colin ate more in his long-delayed first meal of the day than he'd ever eaten in a week as Colin Jacobs. Roy talked and joked with him as if nothing unusual had happened, putting up the façade around others as usual. Colin admired how easily Roy did it, and was pleasantly surprised when he noticed he was doing it, too. He'd lost his mind and tried to kill Roy, and yet the boy who'd gone through the Change with him had already forgiven Colin for it.

Colin spent the dinner remembering details of his lifelong love affair with football and physical fitness, and he raised possible ideas and techniques for both engaging Steven and Philip's enthusiasm for fitness and for getting them started on it.

It felt good knowing Roy was truly coming to forgive Steven and Philip for what they'd done before. Maybe they'd wronged him once, but they had been true to the friendship in this life. In this world, they had never let Roy down. Colin was glad he had, in a strange but very real sense, saved those boys' lives. They were great guys and deserved a shot at a good life.

The strangest feeling came over Colin as he rode home; he felt what was almost like a brain freeze for a few moments, then a sensation of relief as it passed. The heavy emotional burdens he'd carried today were eased some more, and Colin felt good. Maybe he was starting to really make peace with his new life. He'd made it through today, frightening and awful as it had been. This was the worst day he'd known since the Change, and he'd survived. He'd stood on the brink of madness and managed to step back. Colin was still uncertain, scared, confused… but he had Roy back.

Colin assured himself that he didn't have to kill anybody or anything if he didn't want to. He could handle this. Somehow or another, he'd make it. He might have murdered someone in this life, but he didn't need to use killing as a solution to his problems if he didn't feel like it. Colin still had a choice.

It had been a hell of a day. That was putting it lightly.

They parked their bikes and headed in the back door of the house, silent as ever.

Colin suddenly remembered- their chores! They hadn't done them!

"I got everything done this morning, before I went out to look for you," Roy said, when Colin said something about it.

"You just did it all yourself?" Colin stared at Roy in the dark kitchen, moved and amazed.

"Yep."

"Thank you."

"You'd have done the same for me."

Colin gave Roy a brief hug, which his twin returned. They headed upstairs, glad it was near midnight and their parents were long asleep. As usual, they had gone about their day neither knowing nor caring where the boys were. It was like they didn't care what they did at all.

Roy spoke briefly to Colin in their monk's cell of a room, quietly encouraging him to take a nice hot shower and see to some 'needs'. "You've had a tough day," Roy said. "Just relax and get some rest."

He pressed the July 1980 issue of Playboy into Colin's hands and headed off to shower downstairs, June 1980's copy in hand.

Colin showered, relieved and pleasured himself, and then headed back to his and Roy's room, exhausted but relaxed. He waited until Roy came back and closed the door, and gave Roy another hug before they went to bed. Roy returned it gladly, and Colin marveled yet again at Roy's love for him. Nothing, not even Colin trying to kill him today, seemed able to change that.

 **XX**

Colin had another dream that night.

Like the last one, it involved him and Roy. It was 12th grade, senior year at Central High, and Colin was in his red and white football uniform, suited up and ready to go. Well, mostly. His tight-fitting white pants were down around his ankles, and Laurie was giving Colin a blowjob as he relaxed on a locker room bench. She thought she was blowing Roy. Janet, the beauty Colin was dating at the moment, thought she was giving her boyfriend head a few locker rows over.

It was a lot of fun, swapping girlfriends like this. Colin and Roy had enjoyed themselves immensely all through the last three years of high school and were set to enjoy this one just as much. They were mostly in the same classes, and had switched in the ones they went to separately many times. They'd pretended to be each other in all kinds of ways, and because they dressed and wore their hair the same way, it was almost impossible to tell who was who.

Laurie, for instance. Colin knew she couldn't tell the difference.

The twins had decided to show up an hour before Coach said they needed to be there, to get some alone time in the locker room. They'd each made arrangements with the girls, not letting on that they'd be there with switched jersey numbers.

Colin sighed as Laurie worked, slumping his tall, heavily-muscled frame against the lockers behind him. Laurie's tongue was all over him, warm and wet. She had one hand fondling his balls, gently squeezing them and making 'Roy' gasp every now and then. She'd brought him almost to climax several times already, but just when Colin was about there, she'd slow down, ease up, and then keep going.

Putting his hands behind his head, Colin sighed and smiled to himself. This was the life. He could bench-press more than five hundred pounds, had damn near an eight-pack chiseled into his abs, and every girl in the school wanted him and his twin brother. Every damn one. He and Roy had enjoyed quite a few of them; they were legends among all the guys for being the most promiscuous boys in the school. Name a beautiful girl at Central, and there was a good chance Roy or Colin (or both, posing as one or the other) had screwed her. There were no better athletes or lovers, and their cheery, outgoing personality made them popular with everyone. They were the guys everyone wanted to be.

They'd also murdered a homeless man after driving to Santa Monica last weekend. It had been fun. A lot of fun. The twins had carved him up into so many pieces no one would have recognized him, gone to a pier and rented a small boat for a day. They'd moved the dead guy out in a good-sized cooler, headed out a few miles as it got dark, and dumped the mess into the Pacific. The original plan, dumping it all off a pier at night, got scrapped when Colin had pointed out some of it would inevitably wash up on a nearby beach and cause a sensation. A couple miles out into the Pacific, though- no problem.

The homeless were an easy target; nobody ever really missed them. The police would never say this out loud, but Colin had a suspicion they didn't try as hard to investigate when a homeless person disappeared or turned up dead. As long as it didn't happen every single day, they'd look into it a little and that was it.

Colin was glad Roy had let him finish this last guy off. There wasn't anything quite like dragging his switchblade across someone's throat and watching the blood pour out. Only thing that was better was raping a really built girl and then killing her afterward, something Roy and Colin did now and then.

It was hard to believe Colin had once had a problem with that stuff.

Oh, man. Colin felt a surge of pleasure and groaned. He impulsively put a hand on Laurie's head as she started to raise it. Colin held her down as he let out a noise halfway between a grunt and a groan, and his jaw locked open and his eyes bulged as he experienced one of the best fucking orgasms he'd ever had. This was just about gonna fill her mouth up. Holy shit. Colin couldn't even think. He just sat there, holding Laurie's head down, waves of pleasure rushing through him.

When it was finally over and Colin's ability to form complex thoughts returned, he let her up. She glared at him, wiping her mouth. "Could've told me you were gonna do that, Roy."

"I thought it'd be a surprise." Colin suddenly stared at her. "Wait, what'd you do with-?"

She glared even more. "You didn't really leave me a choice."

"Well, thanks. That was great."

"Warn me next time, will you? And don't hold my head down."

"Oh, come on, babe," Colin said. "I'll make it up to you after the game, I promise."

She considered that. "You will?"

"Oh, yes. Just you wait."

Laurie thought about it, then shrugged. "Okay. But you better be amazing."

"Aren't I always?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then just look forward to it."

Colin pulled his pants back up, hugged Laurie, and she left with Janet after the girls did a little cleaning up in the bathroom.

Roy came around the corner just as they departed, grinning from ear to ear. "So, how was she?"

"Great. Your girl can really suck some dick."

Roy laughed. "I was just gonna tell you that."

The two boys high-fived exultantly just as Steven Rose came into the locker room. He was tall and lean, far more muscular than he'd been years ago. He ran track along with Philip and both did well at it. Steven, with help from Colin and Roy, had developed from a smart and witty kid into one of the class's partiers and playboys. His energy and bright cheery nature made him well-liked, and he'd charmed more than one pretty girl into bed with him. He'd come a long way and Colin and Roy were both very proud of him.

"Hey, guys," Steven said. "Just wanted to wish you good luck before the game."

"Thanks, Steven," Roy said.

"Appreciate it," Colin said. He noticed again how confidently Steven carried himself, how much a lot of running and working out and making loads of friends had done for him. He'd done so much of it himself; Colin and Roy had just encouraged him to get started and helped him along the way.

"I'm gonna go meet up with Philip. I'm gonna get painted up in red and he's gonna do white and we're gonna go yell ourselves hoarse in the first row in the stands."

Roy laughed. "That oughta be fun."

"It's gonna be a blast," Steven said. "Just win that game, you football jocks." He energetically high-fived Colin and Roy, then pulled his shirt off and bolted out of the locker room. "Central High, let's do this! First game of senior year! Wooooooo!"

Colin and Roy looked at each other and cracked up. Roy wound up laughing so hard he could barely stand, and Colin needed a minute or two before he could sit up straight.

"You think he got his hands on some beer again or is he just horny?" Roy asked when he could breathe again.

"He's always horny, Roy."

"I knew the little joker was gonna turn into something like this. We created a monster, Colin."

"Be honest. You're proud of him."

"Yeah." Roy grinned. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Just then, the locker room door banged open and the guys on the team poured in. Roy and Colin were greeted like they were a couple of kings, not just the co-captains of the football team, with everyone wanting a piece of their time. Strong, confident, iconic ladies' men, and superstar athletes- Colin and Roy were what every guy on the team wished they were. The way the guys treated them sometimes, it was like they looked up to the twins as something more than kings. It was almost more like they were gods.

 **XX**

Colin woke up just as the dream ended; he felt acute disappointment that he hadn't gotten to see the game happen. It was the middle of the night, and the house was dead silent. Colin was in his underwear as usual. Buff and ridiculously strong for his age, as usual. But in that dream, he'd been even stronger. It was a little bit of a letdown coming back and realizing he wasn't there yet.

Yet…

So was that a vision of the future instead of just some dream? Was that what Colin would become if he and Roy took on high school together?

For some reason, the fantastic mood Colin had been in during the dream stayed with him as he woke up, and Colin lay on his back in bed for a few minutes, reliving it. That sure had been fun. It was nice to think that a future like that was seriously possible. So many things that he could have never done as Colin Jacobs awaited him as Colin Borden.

And that blowjob… wow. Colin had never experienced one. Not even in this life. 2nd base was as far as he'd made it so far. But the dream had made it so fucking real. How was his mind able to so vividly imitate something he'd never even experienced?

Just as he was thinking about that, Colin realized that his underwear was… damp. After a moment he blushed furiously in the dark as he realized he'd come in his sleep. The dream had been so real Colin had actually experienced that powerful orgasm. His underwear was a mess.

Colin got out of bed, stepping out of his underwear. He tossed it into the hamper in their closet. As he did so, his eyes, adjusted to the dark, glanced over his thickly-muscled, suntanned frame. Colin felt some of his muscles, felt himself below the waist, where he still ached and throbbed from his reaction to the dream. Everything about him was huge and powerful, from head to toe. His body was a marvel of physical strength. Colin, who'd never even kissed anyone, was overwhelmed to now be in the kind of body every girl fantasized about.

Maybe he could live with who he was after all. It was certainly worth a try. Colin might have become a murderer in this life, and having remembered, he had to find a way to live with it. But that didn't mean he had to hurt or kill anyone or anything else. Once more, Colin reminded himself he still had control, still had a choice. Main thing seemed to be, he needed to settle down and not fight with himself so much. He could do that without killing. Colin told himself that as bad as today had been, it was mostly a personality conflict. He'd gone momentarily mad, unsure of who he was. The rage he felt now and then had only some part in it. This stuff was manageable. It wasn't as bad as it seemed.

The dream was nothing but good suggestions of what the future might be. Colin liked it a lot. Well- the murder of the homeless man, not so much. But it was just one part of an otherwise surprisingly pleasant dream. Colin promised himself that there was every chance he could have all the good things in the dream's depiction of the future if he stuck together with Roy, and that he could edit out the one thing he didn't like that he'd seen. Again, it was manageable. Colin could handle this. He wasn't going to do anything he didn't want to.

Roy mumbled something and shifted around in the upper bunk. It sounded like he was trying for third base. Colin suppressed a laugh. If Roy's dream went well, he'd need to change his underwear pretty soon. Maybe he'd wake up and realize what happened in the morning.

Colin lay down on his bed and got back under the covers. The day's emotional agonies were over, and he felt relaxed and at peace. Above him, Roy, the boy he'd once admitted he idolized and wanted to be exactly like, slept soundly. Within a minute, Colin was sleeping, too.

* * *

 **A/N: 3-28-2017. New chapter, hope you like it. I also hope I didn't over-dramatize anything and that the way the chapter played out comes across as plausible. Colin is still struggling with who he was versus who he is, but the big secrets are out now. He knows what he and Roy did, and you'll notice that Colin and Roy both wind up recalling the event in the way that Roy remembers it in the book. That is, Roy truly believes he murdered his sister on purpose. Traumatized by that accident and by his brutal punishment for it later on, Roy embraces the charge of murderer and has convinced himself that's what he is- a killer, a murderer, an animal. Colin Borden sees himself the same way and has had the same reaction to the trauma.**

 **This was a serious test of Colin and Roy's relationship, and Colin's trust or distrust of Roy. Colin's memories and sense of self are starting to shift towards Colin Borden. After all, Colin Jacobs is only really preserved in his mind. No one else has ever met him. Surrounded by the world and living the life of Colin Borden, Colin is having a hard time remaining the same person he was before the Change, the name that he and Roy will come to use to refer to what happened in the Kingman house. To any readers and/or reviewers, thank you. I appreciate it.**

 **3-29-2017: Made a few edits to this chapter based on corrections AM83220 advised me about.**


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